Stay With Me
by LaLopez1981
Summary: WinterFrost, Modern AU. A mechanic and a grad student meet in a club and a one-night stand develops into a weekend affair. But one, or both, might want more.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: ****Saw a thing, got some inspiration. Feedback is always nice. :)**

**xoxo,**  
><strong>La<strong>

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><p>Bucky closed up the garage a few minutes earlier than he probably should have. But seeing as he was the only one in the place at the time, who was going to tell. It was a slow day anyway, being Friday, and he had no pressing jobs to get done. It was the end of the week, people were heading out of town for the weekend, likely toward the Hamptons, as many New Yorkers did in the summer. The hour was closing in on eight o'clock when the brunet jumped on his bike—a 1956 BMW R9 he had fixed up himself—and after purchasing a six pack of beer from the nearest liquor store, he left Brooklyn behind him.<p>

Bucky loved riding through the city on his motorcycle. Many considered it a dangerous way to travel, but Bucky found it freeing. No constraining seat belts or tightly shut windows. Even in the freezing New York winters, Bucky could be found zipping through the taxi-crowded streets, wind blowing through his rich brown hair.

Veering off the congested highway, it was mere minutes later that Bucky pulled into the driveway of his best friend's house. The familiar cars were already there and a quick glance at his phone told the mechanic he was a good twenty minutes late. Hanging his helmet on a handlebar with one hand, and after grabbing the six pack from the back compartment—his contribution for the night—with the other, Bucky walked up the pathway and straight into the house.

A rousing chorus of hey's sounded as he stepped into the living room and gave a wave to the small group gathered. A broad-shouldered blond rose from a barcalounger in the corner and crossed in front of the television, showing a Yankees game, and clamped a hand on Bucky's shoulder.

"You're late, Barnes," he said with a smile worthy of a toothpaste commercial.

"Sorry," he muttered through a grin that was only slightly apologetic. He was the only one of the gang who still lived in the city. The others had all packed up and migrated to the suburbs within the last couple of years, to start their 'grown up' lives.

"I owe Wilson five bucks now. Thanks." Steve Rogers, Bucky's oldest friend, aimed an accusing finger at him and reached for the six pack. "You want a cold one?"

"Yeah, that'd be great."

"All right. Go say hi." Steve slapped the back of his hand to Bucky's chest and moved toward the kitchen, while Bucky remained awkwardly in the doorway between the living room and the entryway.

It wasn't that he wasn't comfortable with Steve's friends; he just wasn't as close to Sam Wilson and Phil Coulson as he was to Steve. And Nick Fury, an intimidating man with an eye patch hiding an old injury sustained during his first tour in Afghanistan, was a relative newcomer to their Friday night get togethers.

"Here you go." Steve popped off the top of a cold bottle and held it out to Bucky, who accepted it and took a healthy swig. "Busy at the garage today?" the blonde asked before sipping from a glass of what looked like iced tea.

Always the Boy Scout, Bucky thought with a silent chuckle.

"No, not really. Got a '96 Chevy waiting for a brake change and a Ford Focus needing a tune-up but nothing that couldn't wait 'til tomorrow. Traffic," he stated in lieu of an explanation for his tardiness. Though there wasn't much; he just took his time, enjoying the ride.

"Mm," Steve nodded as he sipped from his tea. "Well, go on and join them in the living room. I'm going to see if my girl needs any help."

Most of the Friday nights Bucky had come to Steve's house, it was merely to catch up on their week, have a couple of beers, and watch the Yankees play—if they didn't already have tickets for a game. Things had taken a decidedly more dinner party atmosphere since Steve had proposed to his girlfriend of two years, Peggy Carter. Now the others were free to bring their female companions—ever-changing as they were. Though, Bucky never brought anyone.

No one ever asked him about his personal life. He had always assumed Steve simply told them it wasn't on the list of topics to discuss. Bucky wasn't ashamed of being gay; he just didn't feel the need to fly a rainbow flag every time he stepped out of his apartment. And he wasn't much for dating or relationships, preferring to keep his social life limited to brief, nearly anonymous, encounters. And even that was sporadic and dependent on his mood.

In an odd mood at the moment, Bucky chastised himself for being anti-social, and taking a deep breath, he forced himself to step further into the room and be friendly.

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><p>Dinner had been had and discussions of a varying nature had already taken place, when the first of the group, Phil, decided to leave. Steve and Peggy walked him out, and it was while they had stepped away that Bucky learned that Peggy hadn't simply accepted a marriage proposal; she had moved in. Because his best friend and his girlfriend were a quiet couple, they had decided to forego a large wedding, and were planning a small ceremony at the church Steve attended every Sunday. They planned to wait a few months, to tell Peggy's family and give them time to plan their travels from England.<p>

On their return, the subject of bachelor and bachelorette parties had come up while they all dived in to a homemade cheesecake. Bucky remained silent through most of it, silently praying no one would ask his opinion. But he was to be the Best Man, and as such, responsible for the groom's last hurrah. He was carefully rolling up a cigarette when Sam Wilson, one of Steve's rowdier military friends, elbowed him in the ribs.

"You like strippers, right?"

Bucky's icy blue eyes lifted from the paper cigarette between his fingers to Sam's wide smile, and darted to Steve, who gave him a small sympathetic smile and encouraging nod. The corners of the mechanic's mouth dipped as he gave a shrug. "Doesn't really matter what I like does it? It's for Stevie."

"I always knew I liked you, Bucky," Peggy said in her sweet British accent.

Bucky grinned, looking down and away at the compliment. He stuck the finished cigarette between his lips and rose to excuse himself. He had been outside for just a few minutes, enjoying his cigarette in silence, when he felt another's presence. He didn't have to look to know it was Steve. "I'm fine," he murmured while exhaling a thick plume of smoke.

A chuckle sounded beside him. "How'd you know I was gonna ask you that?"

"'Cause I know you."

"Ha, yeah." Both men went quiet again, the crickets' song and the clinking of ice in Steve's tea the only sounds between them. "You gonna come around on Sunday?"

Bucky glanced at his friend, in the middle of taking another drag from the cigarette. "Remind me…?"

"Peggy's birthday."

"Oh! Yeah, absolutely."

"Good," Steve breathed the word out on an almost relieved sigh. "I need you here. Peggy and me, we're gonna tell Abraham about the engagement."

"Shut the fuck up." Steve barked out a laugh. "No—sorry," Bucky chuckled. "You know what I mean." The blond nodded and took another drink of his tea. Bucky frowned in thought and glanced at his childhood friend. "I didn't know you still kept in touch with him."

Steve shrugged. "He and his wife raised me, Bucky."

The mechanic's lips twitched. "You lived with them for four years, Steve," he pointed out. "Until you aged out."

"I know," the soldier said softly. Bucky took one last drag before stubbing out the cigarette and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "He wrote me, Buck," Steve mumbled into the silence. "His wife sent me stuff…while I was over _there_." He continued to speak softly, but with conviction, as the soldier always did when he spoke of his time in Iraq.

Bucky stood completely still, forcing himself not to shuffle his feet or make some excuse to go inside. He always felt a little uncomfortable when Steve brought up Iraq. Without ever delving too much into his reasons, he blindly assumed it was guilt; guilt he carried for not going back for a second tour with Steve, for choosing to walk away from the army to be a regular mechanic in a regular garage in a regular city, leaving Steve without the expert sniper that was his best friend.

That Steve had a rougher time there, saw worse things than the first time, and lost some men, only made Bucky feel worse. They never discussed it after that first time. And even now, as the two friends, who had known each other since they were boys in Brooklyn, stood under the dim yellow porch light, it grew more tense by the second.

"I better get going," Bucky finally said, unable to take it another minute.

Steve's head shot up. "Already? You sure you're all right to ride?"

"Had a long week. And I'm fine, Stevie. Don't worry so much." Bucky held out a hand to him, and Steve gripped his tightly. "I'll see you on Sunday. Promise." He released Steve's hand and moved to head down the walkway to his motorcycle parked in front on the street.

"You're not gonna say bye to the others?" Steve aimed a thumb behind him at the house, even as Bucky swung a leg over the bike and reached for his helmet.

"Do it for me?" He chuckled at Steve's eye rolling, and started up the motorcycle. "See you later, buddy."

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><p>The air had cooled as Bucky neared the city, so he was glad he kept a jacket on the bike and slipped it on before leaving Steve's house. He rode directly to his apartment building, down into the garage to park the bike and headed for the elevator. He had gotten as far as his door before he decided he didn't want go inside. All he would do is drink another beer, smoke another joint, and watch some trash tv before he finally fell asleep. He felt like a little company.<p>

Before he could talk himself out of it, Bucky turned back to the elevator, got back out to the street, and walked to the nearest subway stop. After a short half hour ride, the mechanic made it back to street level and headed to a gay bar he frequented, among others. He ordered a beer at the bar and scoped out the scene while he nursed it, spotting a few lookers here and there, and had some interested glances thrown his way.

After his second beer, Bucky moved to the dance floor. He wasn't so much asked to dance as he was taken by the hand and dragged there. Whatever. Halfway through the dance, his partner found someone new and Bucky maneuvered his way back to the bar, where he ordered a straight bourbon.

The DJ was playing good music on this night, and Bucky went through two more straight bourbons while bouncing in place, bopping his head to the beat. He'd gotten so into it, his head dipped back at one point, eyes closed, as his body swayed. It was when he opened his eyes again that he spotted the palest man he had ever seen watching him, his own eyes glittering in the strobe lights, pale red lips quirked up ever so slightly on one side.

They locked gazes for a few brief seconds before the other man turned away to shout something at a small gathered group around him, and walked away. Bucky didn't hesitate—too much—to follow. The man was tall and thin, but his hips swayed invitingly as he walked down a smoky hallway. A couple were heavily making out against a wall and one decided to push the other against the opposite wall, blocking Bucky's way for a moment.

He looked up just in time to see the dark-haired man turn into the men's room. Bucky decided at that moment he needed to piss.

Pushing his way in, Bucky spotted the good-looking stranger, standing at the end of a line of urinals. Bucky moved to one, another man between them, eyeing the man as best he could from his spot.

Bucky had never pursued anyone like this before. But there was something intriguing about this one. The mechanic had never seen him before, here or in any other club, but then it was a big city. And Bucky knew he would have remembered seeing him before. His profile, from what Bucky's blue eyes could catch before he zipped up and walked away, was damn near perfect.

Like a little creeper, Bucky watched him leave. Finally, he finished himself and washed his hands before heading out to the floor again, searching for the tall man. But he, of course, had lost him among the crowd.

His dance partner from earlier found him once again, a little drunker and a little more handsy. He bought Bucky another drink and drunkenly grinded himself against the mechanic and licked at his ear. Bucky was too amused by him to be turned on and shied away from the man's sloppy tongue as best he could. He laughed at a nip to his neck and through the hazy air and strobe lights, suddenly caught sight of his mystery man. He was watching Bucky and the man slobbering all over him with an undoubtedly amused look on his face.

And all it took was a pointed nod at the door from the Mystery Man for Bucky to slip away from the slobbering mess in his arms and follow him out of the club.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you SO much for all the comments, likes, follows, etc.! I'm glad you're all already liking this. Please keep the love coming. Also, the story itself is nearly done and will be quite short (in comparison to my other works), so I will be trying to update every Sunday night. Enjoy!**

**xoxo,**

**La**

**p.s. for my FrostIron followers, don't worry! _Ghosts That We Knew_ will be updated soon!**

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><p>It wasn't rare for the men Bucky brought home with him to spend the night. He wasn't so cruel that he couldn't let a man sleep off whatever he had gotten into the night before. So it didn't shock him to see the inky black strands curling on top of the pillow next to him when he woke. The body itself was burrowed into his comforter, which he found surprising, considering it was the height of summer, and all Bucky had was a bit of sheet draped over his bare hips, covering him modestly.<p>

With a satisfied grin on his face, Bucky rolled out of bed and wandered naked into the bathroom, relieved himself, and brushed his teeth. He snatched up his boxers, discarded quickly the night before, and stepped into them as he walked out into the kitchen to make coffee. As he waited, he could hear his bed creak and moan as Mystery Man—fuck, what was his name? Something with an 'L'—woke and moved about, then the sound of bare feet on wood floors as he moved into the bathroom. He prepared two cups and carried them in each hand to his bedroom, where he found his bedmate standing, in all his glorious nudity, eyeing the various pictures of cars and motorcycles on his bedroom wall.

"Morning," he murmured, voice still raw from the shouting at the club the night before. _Loki_, he remembered suddenly. That was his name. Loki spun around and grinned, leaning back against the small rectangular table that served as Bucky's desk. Clearly, the man was comfortable in his skin. Bucky quietly cleared his throat and eyed the laptop for a moment, glancing up when Loki greeted him in return.

"Morning." Damn, even his morning voice was sexy. Deep, rich, and just scratchy enough to be pleasing to the ear, not grating. "How are you feeling today?" he asked with a smirk that told Bucky he felt just fine.

"A little rough," he answered almost bashfully.

Loki's smirk stretched as he pushed up and waved a finger at the cups in his hand. "Is one of those for me? Can I have it then?" he asked politely after Bucky nodded.

"Wha—yeah. Uh, I didn't know how you'd take it, but I can—"

"Black is just fine." He was already taking the cup from Bucky's hand and moving back toward the bed. "Thank you," he nearly sang, as he settled on the side against the wall and overlooking the lone window in the bedroom.

"Welcome." Bucky stayed by the door, leaning against the jamb a little as he sipped at the hot beverage, sighing as it slid down his throat to settle in his empty belly.

"What time do you start work?" Loki asked, the mug at his lips, his pinky sticking up the slightest bit. It made Bucky want to laugh.

"Ten." In unison, their eyes slid to the clock on the bedside table.

"You've some time then." Loki pulled the comforter back and patted the empty side of the mattress, inviting Bucky into his own bed. Sighing out a small laugh, Bucky crossed the room and slid in beside Loki, his back resting against the wall. "You were quite pissed last night."

It took a moment for Bucky to realize he meant drunk, then he chuckled as he gulped down another mouthful of coffee. "I wasn't an asshole was I?"

"No. Though I finally had to tell that little gremlin you'd been dancing with to fuck off because I was taking you home," Loki muttered as he shifted in the bed, facing Bucky and crossing his legs under the comforter. "He wouldn't leave you alone."

Bucky blinked, not able to recall any of that. Then shrugged it off. "Gremlin's a bit strong, isn't it? He wasn't so bad. Had a nice smile."

"Is that what draws you in?" Loki asked with a tilt of his head. "A nice smile?"

"No." Bucky gave a shake of his head and smirked. "Resemblance to movie creatures does."

"Oh?" The other man asked with an amused lift of his black brows. "And what movie creature do I remind you of?"

"An elf, naturally. A dark one." Bucky's lips stayed in that cheeky smirk, enjoying the sound of Loki's laugh. He tensed slightly when Loki started to lean in closer to him and stopped just inches from his lips. Instinctively, a hand flew up and covered his mouth. "What? Do I have morning breath?"

"Not at all," Loki murmured, his long black lashes fluttering as his clear viridian eyes roamed over Bucky's face. "Quite the opposite actually. But now you've gone and made the playing field uneven." Bucky cocked a brow in question. "You smell of mint and toothpaste and I smell of cock and cum."

A choked noise sounded in Bucky's throat, muted by his closed lips, and his eyes locked onto Loki's lips, images of the night before flashing through his mind as his body began to heat up. "I, um…" He went quiet again when Loki's lips curved.

"Now that you're thinking about it…"

Bucky blinked and Loki was on his feet, crawling over him. _What the fuck?_ he thought to himself, practically gawking as Loki picked up his discarded briefs and slipped them on. "Thinking about what?"

"Last night," the raven-haired man answered, digging through the bag he had brought with him and dumped on the floor by Bucky's dresser. He pulled out a small recorder and hopped back onto the bed, stretching out along it, resting on his elbow facing Bucky. "You promised."

Bucky sorted through his scrambled thoughts, fighting the disappointment that he wasn't about to get laid again, and recaptured fragments of their conversation, brief as it was last night, when they had returned to Bucky's place. Something clicked and he scoffed. "I thought you were kidding."

"No," Loki said bluntly through a smile. "I wouldn't have slept with you otherwise."

Behind his lips, Bucky's teeth clamped down. "Well…what do you want me to say?"

"Anything." Loki was distracted, checking the tape in the recorder, and getting it set up to begin taping. "About last night." He looked up at Bucky, crossing his legs at the ankles, the sunlight streaming in through the open curtains to make his black hair shine. "What happened, what you wanted to happen, anything you like, really."

"Tell me why I'm doing this again." Bucky set aside his coffee cup and brought his legs up to his chest, wrapped his arms around his legs.

Loki flashed another brilliant smile. "Would you believe it's for art?" He snickered when Bucky didn't even blink. "It's a project I'm working on. For my degree."

"And you're just gonna lie there and record me talking about our night together?"

"Exactly."

"And people are going to hear this?"

"Only if you make the cut," he teased with a smirk. Bucky's brows twitched then furrowed over his eyes. He actually flinched when Loki pressed the record button. "Go on."

He frowned at the recorder, at Loki, sighed in exasperation. "I don't know—I, I barely remember what happened after we left the club."

"It'll come back to you. Start from when you first saw me."

The mechanic lowered his eyes, feeling his cheeks warm. "You want me to tell you what I thought when I first saw you?"

"Yes."

"All right." Relaxing a little, Bucky thought back to when he first spotted Loki. "I was at the bar. Kind of dancing to the music. And you…" Icy blue eyes flicked up to glittering viridian. "You were watching me."

Loki made a gesture of agreement. "I was. And what did you think of me?"

"I thought…I thought you were pale as hell." Bucky chuckled, slipping his arms under his legs, as Loki gasped loudly, obviously mock affronted by his comment. "I also thought you were, I dunno, out of my league, and—"

"What league are you in?" Loki interrupted, putting the recorder close to his lips as he asked before aiming it at Bucky once more.

"Hm…" Bucky's eyes ran down the length of Loki's body, flawless in texture and firmness, but soft in just the right spots. "The minors, compared to you."

Loki scoffed, in disgust, speaking into the recorder, "I don't think he believes that for a second. And neither do I." Bucky only shrugged. "Then you followed me into the toilet and gave me the once-over at the urinal. Sexy."

"Oh." Bucky groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Well, you left." Loki agreed again and it was his turn to shrug. "Why?"

"I was after someone else," he answered without hesitation. "But by the time I got back out there, I'd lost him to someone else, so…"

Bucky had to fight to keep his jaw from dropping. "So I was your second choice…?"

"Does that matter?"

"Well, yeah! Kinda."

"Don't take it so..."

Voices shouting outside caught both mens' attention. Bucky was ready to ignore it, as it was a common occurrence in Brooklyn to hear people shouting in a number of languages, but Loki wasn't. He clicked off the recorder and rolled over to the window, sitting up on his knees as he pushed the window up all the way.

"Loki."

Down in the street, a scuffle had started, gathering people's attention, though no one seemed inclined to step in and help the young man getting gay slurs hurled at him by an older, rougher looking man. "Oi!"

"Loki, get back in here."

The paler man waved him off. "Do it again and I'll come down there and split your skull!" Something was shouted up at him and Bucky grabbed for his arm, only to be shaken off. "Don't make me come down there. I will shove the nearest object I can find up your hole, slowly and intimately, if you don't leave that boy alone!"

"Loki!" Bucky snatched him back and he fell to the bed laughing. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? They're gonna start throwing shit at my windows."

"You're on the tenth floor!" Loki exclaimed through his laughter. "Do you really think a brick is gonna reach your window?" He sat up, tucking his long legs beneath him.

Bucky had no response for that, because Loki was right. But he had other reasons for not wanting to get involved. He breathed out a sigh through his nose and eyed the man in his bed. "'I will shove the nearest object I can find up your hole?'" Loki lifted one brow and pursed his lips. "Who says that?"

"I do. Now come on." Loki pulled at the comforter and moved around in the bed until he could stretch out and lay his head on the pillow. "Continue."

Bucky returned to his sitting against the wall position, shifting so he could look down at Loki, who clicked the record button as he settled. "Fine. So…we came back here, obviously. And…I offered you a drink, I think. It's blurry." Loki made a noise of agreement. Bucky moistened his lips, bit into his lower one for a moment, and said, "Then you kissed me. In the hallway."

"And I groped you."

"You did?"

Loki nodded. "And you groped me." Bucky chuckled, remembering. "And I was happy to feel you had a big cock and it was throbbing behind those denim trousers. Which was a little surprising, considering how drunk you were."

Heat rose up the back of Bucky's neck, spreading to his ears, but he worked to keep his face neutral. He wasn't sure if he was embarrassed that they were discussing this so bluntly into Loki's recorder or because the discussion was turning him on. He was certainly sporting a semi at the moment.

"And then we came into your bedroom. Can you remember what you wanted to happen?"

"Not really…" he murmured. He remembered, but he wasn't ready to admit it, out loud, to the recorder.

"Well, I knew what I wanted. So I took off your shirt and dropped to my knees."

"Hmm," Bucky hummed as he nodded.

"And do you remember what I wanted to do next?" Loki's eyes flicked up to meet Bucky's and the mechanic shook his head no. "I wanted to lick your belly button. It's a thing for me. And you wouldn't let me," he said with a mock pout.

"Because that's weird!"

"It is _not_ weird!"

"Yes, it is."

"Let me see." Loki reached out to push at Bucky's legs and the mechanic shoved at his hand as he leaned away.

"No," he said through chuckles.

"Come on. Let me see! I just want to peek. Stingy little bitch, let me see." Loki was stronger than he looked—or maybe than Bucky remembered from the night before—and was able to hold Bucky back against the wall and tried to shove his legs down.

"All right, all right." Loki released him and Bucky relaxed his legs so Loki could see his belly button. Bucky watched Loki lean down and trail his fingers around his belly button. His muscles shook, though he tried his best not to laugh from the ticklish sensation. Loki shot him a glance and his fingers lightly flicked at the soft tufts of hair trailing down into Bucky's boxers. There was that heat again, and his cock gave a twitch he knew Loki noticed. But thankfully, he didn't say anything and silently laid back down.

"So…after you refused to let me have a little fun with your belly, you…started to stroke me."

"No, I didn't."

Loki lifted his head. "I thought you were too drunk to remember?"

"I remember the kissing, 'cause I liked the taste of your tongue." He paused, seeing the slight lift to Loki's lips. "And, like you said, you took my shirt off, but then…I got nervous because I was dancing a lot, and I was afraid I was going to…stink."

"You didn't. You didn't smell poorly, at all. You smelt of…motor oil and liquor. Intoxicating combination." Bucky chuckled, scratching his fingers at the back of his head. "Why did you smell like motor oil?"

"Mechanic," was all Bucky said in explanation. In a self-conscious move, he folded in his fingers, aiming to hide the dark grease stains that usually lined his fingernails.

"Ah. Then what?"

"Then you kissed my ears, and my neck, and my…" He chuckled anxiously. "You kissed my hand—my palm, which was…" He looked down at Loki, a question clearly in his eyes. But Loki didn't give him answer. He looked away, moving the recorder a little closer to Bucky's mouth.

"Did you wish my cock was bigger?"

"Hell no." He smirked at Loki's brows lifting. "I remember that very clearly. Good size. Good length, good grooming."

"Oh, thank you. Have you been with many uncut men?"

"What?" A little thrown by the question, Bucky shifted in the bed, lowering to lie on his side facing Loki. "Why would you ask me that?"

"I had a difficult time figuring if you were shocked or not. Or…I don't know…pretending not to be bothered by it." Loki looked almost bashful to admit this, and for some reason, Bucky found that incredibly surprising and endearing.

"And this is what was going through your mind while we were having sex?"

"Well. What was going through your mind when I was playing with your arsehole?"

Taken aback again, Bucky shook his head. "Why do you ask this shit? Do you ask everybody these kinds of questions?"

Loki ignored him. "Was it too hard? Too soft?"

He sighed sharply, irritation spiking because he wasn't getting any answers to _his_ questions. "It was fine. I guess." He thought about it and visibly winced. "Maybe a little too hard."

"Why didn't you say so at the time?" Loki didn't give Bucky a chance to reply, jumping ahead with his next question. "You didn't want me to fuck you, did you?"

Bucky froze for a few moments, eyes darting aimlessly, before he shifted onto his back and finally answered, "No, I didn't."

"Why not? Are you not into that?"

"Just 'cause. And it's not that. I just…"

"Would it have made you feel too…gay?"

Bucky's jaw clenched as he stared up at his ceiling. His body warmed up now, for completely different reasons than before. His lips parted, to answer, but no words came out, and Loki must have taken this as his cue to continue.

"In fact, now that I've brought it up, are you actually out?"

"Yes," Bucky answered shortly.

"Are you sure about that?" the man beside him pressed.

After a moment, he turned his head, looking directly into Loki's eyes for a few long moments, then leaned in toward the recorder. "I just thought that we were having a really good time and it was…it was good. It was more than enough for me. So…" he leaned back and grinned at Loki, but it was forced and held no mirth. "Sorry if I don't make the cut, Loki."

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><p>Loki asked a few more questions, and softened Bucky up with some long, slow kisses. Then they were out of the bed, getting dressed, and Bucky was following Loki to the door. Loki was dressed in his skinny jeans, thin forest green tee, and black hoodie from the night before; Bucky had pulled on a t-shirt. Loki took one step out and spun around, hand outstretched, and asked Bucky for his cell phone. He waited as the mechanic ran back inside to fetch it and when he handed it to Loki, the long-fingered man quickly entered his phone number and texted himself.<p>

"There," he chirped, handing it back, with a playful smirk.

"Thanks."

A door down the way opened, and Loki's eyes remained on Bucky, watching as his eyes flew toward the two voices that emerged. And the way he tensed. Following Bucky's gaze, he glanced over at the man and woman, standing in the man's doorway, much like he and Bucky were. It was obvious to Loki that they had just spent the night together and were now saying their awkward goodbye.

He returned his attention to the man he had spent a pleasurable night with, and offered his hand once more. "It was great to meet you."

Bucky looked back at him with wide, striking blue eyes, and Loki smiled. It was those eyes that drew his attention first, even in that dim, smoky nightclub. They were a startling blue, but that wasn't what caught Loki; not from the distance he had seen him. It was the depth of them, and what they were hiding. Loki had tried to get in there and discover the secrets Bucky was keeping, but, surprisingly, the Englishman's charm failed this time.

"You really have a lovely home."

The mechanic grinned lopsidedly, in a boyishly charming manner, and lifted his shoulders. "Thanks. It's not much, but it's mine."

Loki wanted to kiss him goodbye, one last time. But when he inched forward, Bucky tensed again, leaning away. So it was, Loki walked away from his latest conquest with his trademark smirk, slipped on his dark glasses, and walked home. It wasn't until he had made it back to his own apartment, near the university, that he realized he had been clutching onto the recorder the entire time.

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><p>Bucky had watched Loki from his window until his form disappeared around a corner. Returning to his bedroom, Bucky booted up his laptop and carried it to the living room, grabbing an apple on the way. He dropped himself into one of the plush chairs, facing the window, and opened up a fresh document.<p>

He took some time, typed out a long paragraph detailing his night with Loki. The gaps in his memory had generously been filled in by the man he had slept with, while they discussed it into Loki's recorder. He grinned to himself, thinking of it all over again, remembering now how Loki's skin felt under his hands, what he tasted like. Noting the time, Bucky powered down the computer, and jumped in the shower. And if he indulged himself and his fantasies, who would have judged him?

When he left his apartment, stepping out into the warm sun, knowing he would be a little late for work, he did so with a toothy grin spread across his face.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: For anyone who was waiting for the good stuff...enjoy!**

**xoxo**

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><p>Up to his elbows in motor oil, Bucky rolled out from under a 1996 Chevy Silverado, wiping off what he could of the grease on his hands with a rag that wasn't much cleaner. Finished with that job, he got to his feet and kicked the creeper aside, letting it roll to a corner, and decided to head out for a last break. He washed up properly first, grabbed his cell phone and a pack of cigarettes from his locker before he let his boss know he would be heading outside for a bit.<p>

Stepping into the reception area, Bucky dug into one of the pockets of his coveralls for whatever change he had shoved in there. He stood before the line of vending machines, looking over the choices offered and finally settled on some soda. Carrying the can outside, he popped the top as he leaned back against the brick wall of the garage building.

People passed, in cars and on foot, as Bucky lit a cigarette, took a deep drag from it. And thought of Loki. Again. The raven-haired man had been on his mind for most of his shift. He thought of the night they had spent together and the discussion they had had in the morning for Loki's little project.

Bucky honestly could not recall a time in his past when he spoke so candidly about sex. Aside from the odd sex ed class in junior high and high school, there hadn't been anyone to really ask or talk to him about it. Steve, though always popular with the girls in school and in the group homes, never could bring himself to broach the subject with Bucky, even before he realized his best friend was gay. Neither Steve nor Bucky were the kiss-and-tell type.

However much it made him blush at the time, there was a small part of Bucky that almost appreciated Loki forcing him to speak about what they had done, what he liked. He had always been private about dating and his sex life, never bragging, never really being vocal, even during his liaisons. But he never bothered to question why.

Blowing out a thick plume of smoke, then sipping from his Coke, Bucky watched a couple exit the delicatessen across the street. The two men were laughing, beaming at each other, first holding hands then walking arm in arm as they walked up the street. And once again, he thought of Loki.

And, Bucky decided, had a strong desire to see the man. Soon. Very soon.

Tucking the cigarette between his lips, he pulled out his cell phone and sent off a one-word text to the number Loki had input earlier. His phone buzzed only seconds later and he stubbed out his cigarette against the wall before tossing it in a nearby trash receptacle. He smiled at the message.

_Mr. Mechanic. I was hoping to hear from you._

**Yeah? Missing me already?**

_Hardly. __Maybe a little. Still working?_

**Off in about 30. ****You busy?**

_Not a very long shift, is it? __Not at the moment. Why?_

**We close early on Saturdays. Thought you might wanna come down, meet me at the garage. Maybe we can go get a drink. ****Or a bite to eat.**

Bucky started to head back inside, checking his phone as the seconds ticked by, waiting for Loki's reply. It was taking longer than his other responses and nerves had him fumbling the combination to his locker. Finally, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He nearly dropped it, rushing to pull it back out.

_Sure. Send me the address. I'll be there in 20._

Biting his lip, Bucky sent off the address, and with a bounce in his step, headed back into the garage.

* * *

><p>It took Loki a little longer than twenty minutes. Even after a few years in the city, the subway and bus systems could be confusing for him. If he had been able to afford a taxi, he would have, but the budget of a grad student didn't exactly have the ability to stretch too far. And he could forget about asking his parents for a handout. He would whore himself out before he ever did that.<p>

Not that he would whore himself out.

Getting the text from Bucky was a nice surprise—one that he may have assumed he would receive at some point during the day. He liked Bucky. There was something about the mechanic that intrigued Loki and made him want to dig deeper into his psyche and find out more about his sexual history. Beyond his project; for his own personal knowledge.

Loki always enjoyed walking the streets of New York, though Brooklyn was an area he didn't visit often. He slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses as he stepped off his bus, spotting the garage immediately and started for it, slipping his hands into the pockets of the lightweight hunter green hoodie he wore. As he neared it, he immediately recognized the figure standing just outside the building, smoking a cigarette, as Bucky.

"You finally made it," was Bucky's almost lackluster greeting. Loki took no offense; they hardly knew each other after all. The grad student's lips curved as he approached and snagged the cigarette from Bucky's fingers before the mechanic could stub it out and took a long, deep drag.

"I got a little lost," he admitted as he blew out the smoke. He took one more drag, noting the way Bucky watched his every move with wide blue eyes that grew darker by the second, then stubbed it out and tossed it in the trash. "So…hello."

Bucky grinned, nodded his own hello. "You hungry?"

"Not really. You?"

The mechanic's lips pursed as he shrugged and shook his head. "Wanna go for a ride?"

Loki's smirked. "Depends. On what?"

Bucky laughed, lifted a hand to scratch at the side of his head. "My bike. My motorcycle," he corrected. "I can leave it here if you'd rather walk, but—"

"No, please. I'd love a ride. On your bike," he added deliberately belatedly. Loki had to suppress the urge to smile widely when he saw the faint blush taint those stubbled cheeks.

"Follow me, then. It's parked out back."

As if Loki wouldn't follow those pretty heated blues down a dark alley, if he asked. And, coincidentally, that was exactly where Bucky led him. Loki stuck his hands in the pockets of his hoodie again as he walked behind Bucky, casually eyeing the mechanic's backside in a different pair of jeans today, as they headed down the long alley between buildings. "Do you enjoy being a mechanic?"

Bucky glanced behind him, nodded. "Yeah. I've always been fascinated by how things work, I guess."

"Did you work on vehicles in the army?" Loki's steps stuttered and he came to an abrupt stop as Bucky drew up short in front of him and turned to face him, an almost accusatory look clouding over his already dark features. A black brow rose and pale red lips curved as long-fingered hands lifted in surrender. "I don't threaten. I saw the identification tags in your bedroom…James."

A little thrill ran through Loki as Bucky's eyes flashed, narrowing at the corners, when his given name was spoken. The student's heart picked up its already rapid beat when that muscular form faced him fully, and with a sprawled hand pressed to his chest, pushed Loki back against the hard brick wall. He didn't fear Bucky, not in the least; in fact, the move probably had the opposite effect for which Bucky may have been aiming.

The former soldier's name was on Loki's lips again, spoken in a soothing murmur, as Bucky leaned in closer. Loki's hands came up automatically, resting against the firmness of Bucky's chest. No protest intended, his palms started to slide up then were suddenly left in mid-air as Bucky practically leapt back. A glance to the entrance of the alley, where a group of loud teens were passing, and Loki got another glimpse into the mechanic's personality.

"I prefer Bucky."

"I'll make a note of it," Loki murmured. Bucky started to turn away, barely taking a step before, a pale hand snaked out to curl in the crook of his elbow. "You didn't answer my question, _James_."

He heaved an exasperated sigh and Loki had to hold back a laugh. _That didn't take very long_, he thought. If Bucky had walked away without a word, hopped on his motorcycle and left Loki behind, the student wouldn't have blamed him. He could be such a little shit, sometimes. Bucky surprised him by chuckling.

"Yeah, okay? One of the many things I did in the Army was work on vehicles. Started messing around with cars when I was in junior high and it kept me busy in high school, when I wasn't fighting off my best buddy's bullies. And one day—who knows? Maybe I'd like to own my own shop and fix up cars for real money. Anything else you wanna know?"

"No." Loki's fingers eased the grip on Bucky's elbow, sliding down the length of his forearm until his fingers just brushed the mechanic's, perversely testing the other man's limits. Clearing his throat, Bucky pulled his hand out of reach, feigning a need to brush back his hair. With a small smile, Loki lowered his hand to his side, and leaned back against the brick wall. "It sounds like something you really want to accomplish. I'd like to hear more about it."

For a moment, Loki thought he would say no, by the look Bucky was giving him; as if he couldn't believe Loki wanted to know more about him. Then his face split into a grin and he jerked his head toward the other end of the alley. "Let's go."

Loki pushed himself off the wall and followed Bucky to where his motorcycle was parked, behind the garage.

"You ever ride on a bike before?" Bucky picked up the helmet from its perch hanging off the handle bar, and held it out to Loki. He took it, holding it between his hands, away from his body, as if it were covered with worms.

"No. Is it necessary that I wear this?"

"Yeah. Especially since you've never ridden before." As he spoke, Bucky swung a leg over the two-wheeled contraption, and with an ear-piercing roar, it came to life. "Safety first, right?" the mechanic shouted over the revving engine.

Loki did nothing to hide his unhappy expression at having to wear the ridiculous helmet, his nose scrunching with distaste as he scrambled to find an excuse to not wear it. Just as he was about to protest, a sharp tug on the helmet had him lurching forward, and Bucky plopped the damn thing onto his head. An indignant, undignified grunt escaped Loki, his cheeks growing red with it, and he nearly growled when Bucky simply grinned at him.

"Hop on."

Huffing, Loki did as Bucky had, swinging a leg over the seat and settled behind the mechanic, stubbornly keeping a small distance between them, and attaching the chin strap. But when Bucky released the brake and started off, the force of the motion had Loki's arms going around Bucky and holding tight. Even his legs closed in a little around the bike. Loki's heart raced. He watched the streets of Brooklyn fly by, keeping his chin firmly tucked onto Bucky's shoulder, the wind whistled in his ears inside the helmet. The vibration of the engine beneath him echoed up his spine, twining with the heat that warmed his bottom and calves.

He definitely should have ridden a motorcycle before.

At a particularly sharp turn, Loki's arms wrapped more firmly around Bucky's middle, and he laughed in the mechanic's ear. He felt the rumble of Bucky's laugh against his chest, caught the slight turn of head, the devilish little smirk curving his lips.

"Do you seduce all your men like this?" Loki shouted near Bucky's ear so he could hear him behind the mouth of the helmet.

Bucky barked out another laugh. "Yeah. All the time."

Loki filed that away, making a mental note to add that to Bucky's profile. Seduction by Motorcycle.

* * *

><p>Bucky expertly weaved the bike through taxis and buses, taking his time, until they had finally reached his apartment building. There was a smile on his face the entire time. He had decided the second Loki had wrapped his arms around him to take the long way home. It felt nice, to have someone wrapped around him, pressed against him, the way Loki had been.<p>

He hadn't been entirely honest with the student, though he suspected Loki knew it. Aside from letting Steve take the bike for a spin a few times, and once giving Sam a lift to Steve's place, no one had ridden his beloved motorcycle. Most of the men he met with didn't even know he had a motorcycle, he spent such a short amount of time with them. And he had never offered a ride.

Maybe if he'd known it _could_ be a weapon of seduction, he'd have done it sooner. Bucky wasn't one for affection, especially public displays of them, but riding through the streets of his neighborhood with a handsome guy clutching to him, it gave him a sense of comfort that was extremely foreign.

Almost like his strong desire to spend more time with Loki.

After parking the bike in his parking space, Bucky waited for Loki to get off before doing so himself.

"Thank you. That was…quite the rush." Loki chuckled as he handed Bucky the helmet. Bucky grinned at him, his cheeks flushed from the ride. "What?" Loki touched a hand self-consciously to his hair. Bucky smiled more at that move.

"Your hair's a little…you got helmet head."

"Oh. Well, that's a new one." Loki slipped his long fingers into the jet black strands, bent at the waist, and mussed his hair, shaking his head and flipping it back as he straightened. "Better?" Bucky nodded, stuffed his keys in his pocket. "It's beautiful, your bike."

"Thanks. I bought her for cheap from a junkyard. Fixed her up myself." Bucky led Loki to the elevator, glancing back at the bike with an affectionate grin. "She was the first major project I managed to really finished."

"Why do you refer to it as _her_?" Loki stepped through the silver doors and leaned back against a wall, watching Bucky as he joined him, and pressed a finger to the circle marked '10.'

"Most people refer to their cars or bikes or boats as _she'_s, don't they? Guess it sounds better than calling it a _he_. The only important female to me, to be honest," he said with a chuckle. He stood against the wall opposite Loki, anxiously jingling his keys in his pocket. The noise counteracting with the rackety clatter of the old elevator rising.

Loki's brow lifted. "You don't consider your mother important?"

The light in his eyes dimming, Bucky lowered his head, crossed his ankles. "I…probably would if…if I knew her." He peeked up at Loki, watched him wince slightly.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." His shoulders rose and fell. "I'm an orphan. Didn't know my parents." Feeling awkward, because if Steve wasn't with him to help explain the story, he always felt awkward, Bucky looked away again, eyes roaming around aimlessly before finally landing on the rising numbers in the corner.

As they passed the seventh floor he snuck a glance Loki's way, saw him looking down at his phone, his thumb darting over the screen. He sighed inwardly, afraid he had killed the jovial mood they had been enjoying.

"If you had your own garage, what would you call it?" Loki asked into the relative silence.

Caught off guard, Bucky stared at Loki, open-mouthed, drawing a blank on an answer. The elevator slowed to a stop, the doors slid open, and he threw out a hand automatically to hold the doors. "I don't know. I haven't really thought about that part, I guess."

"I think Bucky's Bodacious Body Shop has a nice ring to it," Loki tossed out with a smirk as he stepped out.

Bucky chuckled and followed suit. "Yeah. A bit of a throwback to the Eighties with the _bodacious_ there. But, maybe…"

"It's called alliteration, you twat. And I want proceeds if you use it."

"You just called me a twat." When Bucky frowned at him, Loki laughed and winked at him. "Wow. So, um, what do you do again? Sorry, I…" He flicked a finger by his temple and pulled out his keys. "Beer brain."

"No, it's all right." Bucky came to a stop at his door, ready to unlock it, and paused feeling Loki had stopped to, directly behind him, close enough that Bucky could feel his breath on his neck. Brushing it off, he focused on finding the correct key. "I work at a gallery in SoHo."

"SoHo, right," Bucky finished with him, unlocking the door to his place. He pushed open the door and stood aside to let Loki pass. As he did, the viridian-eyed man smiled his thanks.

"Do you like art, James?" Loki questioned, wandering into the living room. "Your place looks nice in the afternoon light. I didn't really look yesterday."

Bucky had gone still at his first name again, his hand hovering over the dish he kept his keys in, on the counter in the kitchen, angling his head at Loki. "You can call me Bucky, you know?" He ignored everything else Loki had said.

"Yes, I know." He bobbed his brows at him and dropped onto the sofa. Bucky turned away, hoping his warmed cheeks hadn't turned red, and if they had, that Loki hadn't noticed.

What the hell? He never blushed this much. "Yeah, I like art," he called out as he stepped into the kitchen. "I haven't seen much in galleries, but I like it. You want something to drink?"

"I'd love some tea."

"Shit." Bucky sucked in a quick breath, chuckling, as Loki calmly leaned back against the counter near the sink, an innocent grin on his lips. "You shouldn't pop up on people like that."

"Why not? It's fun." He crossed one foot over the other, his arms over his chest.

Bucky chuckled and aimed a finger at Loki. "Tea." He bent, digging through his cabinets, searching for his tea kettle. He finally found it, making a racket as he shoved aside pots and pans, and began to fill it with water.

"How long were you in the army?" Loki asked, once the noise in the kitchen had settled.

Stiffening, Bucky shut off the water and cleared his throat, as he whirled around to set the kettle on the stove, flipping the knob to turn up the heat. "Four years," he finally answered, his voice much calmer than he would have expected it to be. Unsettled internally, Bucky busied himself quietly putting away some cleaned dishes that had dried out on the counter next to the sink. "Buddy of mine and I signed up together, right out of high school, couple years after 9/11."

Loki stayed in his spot leaning against the counter, his eyes following Bucky as he moved about the kitchen. "How patriotic of you."

A derisive snort sounded as Bucky squatted once again, shoving some plastic containers in a lower cabinet. "It wasn't patriotic; it was stupid." He glanced at Loki briefly as he rose. "We thought we were going over there to get the guys who attacked us. We thought we were fighting for freedom and justice."

"…You weren't?" the art student questioned carefully.

"No," he answered shortly, scoffed. "We were fighting to protect some asshole's financial interests. Or a lot of assholes, actually."

A frown creased Loki's brow as Bucky slammed a drawer closed. "My intention was not to upset you."

"You didn't." Bucky finally settled in a corner of the kitchen, diagonally across from Loki. "Sore spot, yes. But I'm not upset." He offered his best small smile. "I came home after I got injured; didn't sign up again. I didn't want to go back. But my buddy, he…he went back. It was worse."

Loki's viridian eyes roamed over Bucky's form, not recalling seeing any injuries the night before. They snapped up to his face once more as Bucky spoke of his friend. It was obvious he carried some residual guilt. "Where were you injured?"

Pushing off the counter, Bucky pulled open the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. "My arm. Almost lost it, but…" He looked down at his left arm, lifted, rotated it. Then popped the tab on the can. "They managed to save it."

Angling his head, Loki grinned. "I hadn't noticed any scars…"

Bucky nodded as he sipped. "They did good work."

The tea kettle chose that moment to begin to whistle and the former soldier moved to switch off the heat, reaching up to grab a take out mug, sliding over to snag the box of tea from another. He glanced sideways at Loki when he moved up beside him.

"What a lovely host."

He snickered, poured the water into the mug. But having Loki so close in such an intimate way that wasn't overtly sexual oddly made him anxious. "Here." He held out the mug to Loki, tucking a fresh spoon into it. "Um. I've got some cookies around here somewhere."

"No need." Loki took the mug, holding it between both of his hands, poking at the tea bag with the spoon.

"Need any sugar or milk? Or…whatever…"

Loki almost giggled. "Splash of milk would be nice." Bucky took the half-gallon from the fridge, waiting as Loki, with a precision the mechanic had never seen before, added a dash of milk to his tea. "Thank you." He brought the mug to his lips, sipped as he moved out into the living room. After Bucky set the kettle on a cold burner, he followed, carrying his beer with him.

"Hey, can I ask you about your project?" He settled into the corner of the sofa, facing Loki, tucked into the other corner, looking almost royal with his mug of tea and mile long legs crossed, one over the other.

"Mm," he nodded, swallowed the tea in his mouth. "What do you want to know?"

"Explain it to me. Tell me why you chose this for a…project."

Loki set aside his mug of tea and settled back into the sofa cushions. "It's a psychology project. And in a word? I'm…curious."

Bucky smirked softly. "About sex?"

He chuckled, slipped his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and crossed one pocketed hand over the other on top of his flat stomach. "That's too simple a reason, is it not? No, I'm curious about…why people choose the lovers they do. And what their choices say about them."

Bucky frowned a little, grinning apologetically when Loki noticed and smiled.

"For example," he started. "I've been with men who put out one persona, but their choices define a completely different one."

"Choices, meaning you?"

"Hmm. Mostly. Though not always."

Thinking that over, Bucky ran his forefinger and thumb around his mouth. "Are you…attracted to everyone you…study?"

Loki sent a smirk his way, and Bucky could've sworn there was a twinkle in those alluring eyes, that appeared to be more green than blue at the moment. "I would have to be at least a little, would I not? I am sleeping with them, after all."

"Hmm," Bucky responded noncommittally. He had no reason to be bothered by what Loki did. But bothered, he seemed to be. "So…you're just gonna play all these dirty conversations about sex for people?"

Angling his head to look at Bucky, Loki frowned. "Dirty? Do you honestly believe talking about sex is dirty?"

"I think it can be. Does anyone really want to sit around and hear what some random guy off the street wants in bed?" Bucky tried not to squirm under the studying look Loki fixed him with.

"You don't want people to know what _you_ like."

Rendered mute for a moment, Bucky wondered if that really was what he meant. He shrugged at Loki. "Maybe," he mumbled. Loki kept those searching eyes on him, until finally Bucky had to look away, feeling himself flush.

"It's not really about sex, you know," Loki added after a moment. "Like I said, it's about personas. Say, you wouldn't happen to have something to smoke besides cigarettes would you?"

Thrown off by the question, it took Bucky a second to realize Loki was asking for marijuana. He stumbled to respond, unintelligible sounds coming out as he sat up then rose. "Y-yeah. Be right back." He made a quick run to his bedroom and returned with a small tin in his hand. Taking his place on the sofa again, Bucky pulled out a hand-rolled joint and a lighter. "What do you mean by personas?"

Loki sighed impatiently, making a face, as he looked away. "I do not want to sound like a pretentious cunt to you, sitting here talking about my theories and hypotheses."

Bucky glanced up as he lit the joint. "Tell me. I'm interested." He took a long drag from the cigarette before offering it to Loki, who took a deep inhale himself.

"Mm…you know when you sleep with someone for the first time?" Bucky nodded. "Well…they don't really know you, right? This person you've chosen to take home that night." The mechanic nodded again. "So, really, you can be anyone you like. You can be a completely different person if you wanted. But while you're pretending to be someone you're not, in that place between who you imagine you are and who you truly are—that's where you _find_ what's stopping you from being who you want to be."

Bucky dragged a hand through his hair as he tried to process that. "And you can conclude all of this just from having a discussion about sex?"

Loki slowly exhaled a thick plume of smoke, nodded. "All from having a discussion about sex."

Impressed, Bucky nodded and held out his hand for the joint. "That's…actually really interesting. Can't say I completely understand, but it's really interesting."

Loki watched Bucky's mouth, almost leering, as the mechanic took another puff. "It sounds better in my head. Or written down…I know it can sound convoluted."

"No. No, I really think it's interesting. So—but—are you really gonna let people listen to these conversations? What kind of audience are you expecting to sit and listen to that?"

"I don't expect any, actually." Bucky frowned at him, and Loki grinned ruefully as he took the cigarette from Bucky's fingers. "No one's going to want to listen because…" He took a small hit and answered as he exhaled, "it's about gay sex."

"Oh…" Bucky lowered his gaze.

"The unenlightened gays will come because they believe they might hear a good story to toss off to later. The straight community won't bother; it has nothing to do with them. Yes, they will attend and extol the importance of exhibitions on genocides and international wars but gods forbid they listen to anything about the courting and mating rituals of the gay man."

"I'd come," Bucky offered softly. Loki looked at him, watching him as he took another puff. And smirked.

"No, you wouldn't."

"Yes, I would! I…" He chuckled, scratched at the back of his head. "No, you're right. I probably wouldn't." He grinned at Loki, who slowly fell into a short fit of giggles. Bucky smiled more, thinking that Loki was utterly _cute_ when he laughed like that, and took the joint from him before he dropped it and burned his rug. He settled back on the sofa, sliding down just a little to face Loki, resting his head on a cushion as he smoked.

Eventually, Loki's giggles died down and he glanced over at the man beside him. After a few silent moments, he plucked the cigarette from between Bucky's lips and leaned over him to set it in the ashtray on the table beside the sofa. Closer to Bucky now, he grinned down at him, and leaned in slowly for a kiss.

Secretly, Bucky was excited. This was what he he had been hoping for when he had texted Loki that day. He sat back, letting Loki take control of the kiss—for now—freely parting his lips and allowing that long, talented tongue access.

Loki enjoyed Bucky's easy surrender, at least at the moment, and didn't hesitate one second to crawl into Bucky's lap, straddling the mechanic's strong thighs. Bucky's lips curved as the kiss broke momentarily, so Loki could settle, then he reached up, his hand gliding over Loki's jaw, fingers curling into the nape of his neck as he brought Loki's mouth back down to his. Loki moaned into his mouth when Bucky's other hand gripped onto his ass, and he pulled at Bucky's shirt, pushed it up, until the mechanic sat up to yank it over his head. Loki, in turn, tore off his hoodie and the thin black tee shirt he wore under it.

Bucky licked his lips as the new flesh was exposed and leaned forward, pressing his lips and nose to Loki's chest, kissing his way up to the long column of his neck. His mouth moving more aggressively now, Bucky left marks on Loki's flawless pale skin. He grunted softly when Loki suddenly pushed him back against the sofa, latching his mouth to Bucky's neck, and slid a hand down the length of his chest, to loosely cup his crotch through his jeans.

"May I?" he asked breathlessly, dragging a finger up along the zipper, and teasingly along the edge of the pants, between denim and skin. Panting heavily, all Bucky could do was nod. Agile fingers swiftly popped the button, snagged down the zipper and dragged down the band of Bucky's boxers enough to free his hardened length and began to stroke him.

Bucky sucked in a sharp breath, watching Loki's hand move. "Oh, fuck…"

"Mm…" Spitting into his hand, Loki continued to stroke Bucky, lifting his head to find his mouth again. "You have a beautiful mouth, do you know that?" he murmured huskily between kisses.

Bucky answered with a low growl and reached up to grab onto that silky, jet black hair, tugging on Loki's bottom lip with his teeth, and breathed heavily into his mouth. His lips were left open, suspended in mid-air when Loki was suddenly not there. He had jumped down between Bucky's spread legs, and in the blink of an eye, had taken him into his mouth, head bobbing fast. "Ohh…"

"Tell me when you're going to come."

"Ngh…'kay." He groaned softly, pushing at Loki's long hair so he could watch as his cock slipped between those pretty, wet lips.

Loki continued to work his mouth on him, smirking around his thick cock at the sounds the mechanic made, and the way his fingers dug into Loki's arms and hair with each descent and lick to the sensitive head. Obscene slurps and desperate moans echoed through the room. And Bucky had to resist the urge to pump faster into Loki's mouth.

"Ah…mnh…fuck, you're gonna make me come." Bucky cried out as Loki hummed around him just as the head of his cock bumped the back of his throat. "Shit. Gonna come, gonna come, gonna—"

Loki pulled his mouth off with a pop and straightened, continuing to stroke Bucky's cock, and lunged up to cover Bucky's mouth with his own, just as the mechanic was about to cry out again. Bucky moaned and clamped his hands around Loki's biceps as he came in hot little spurts between them, pressing his mouth harder to Loki's, muffling his gasps.

Once the pulsing of Bucky's cock began to wane, Loki let the man slump back against the sofa again, and carefully climbed off of him. Bucky felt the weight ease off of his legs, and heard water running from somewhere in the apartment, but he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes just yet. Moments later he felt the swipe of something soft on his stomach and looked down.

"Oh. Thank you."

Loki had cleaned Bucky's mess with a damp paper towel and followed it up with a dry one. He grinned softly at the man and nodded. After Loki walked away, Bucky sat up and tucked himself back into his jeans and boxers. When Loki returned, he quietly picked up his shirt and hoodie and slipped them back on.

Bucky noticed the bulge in his pants, eyes flicking between his face and crotch. Lamely, he aimed a finger at him. "Would you like me to, uh…"

Lips still red and slightly swollen, Loki's grin widened and he shook his head. "I should get going actually."

"Oh." Disappointment swept over him remarkably fast, and Bucky forced a smile. "If you have to…" He got to his feet and motioned for Loki to head to the door, so he could follow. Loki discreetly adjusted himself then zipped up the hoodie as he spun around.

"I don't want to go. But, I've got somewhere to be later."

"Oh. It's okay." Bucky reached the door before him and pulled it open, holding it in place with his back.

"Thank you for inviting me over."

He smiled, his face still flushed from his orgasm. "Thanks for coming over. It felt nice to kiss you…and stuff, sober."

Loki laughed, that deep hearty laugh that Bucky apparently liked best. "Oh, good. Well." He lifted his eyes to Bucky's, and leaned over to place a lingering kiss to his lips. Bucky's brows shot up, not expecting the kiss, but quickly fell into it. But it was over as quickly as it had started. "Bye."

"Bye." Bucky closed the door after Loki stepped out and an overwhelming emptiness settled over him. Breathing it out, reminding himself of what just transpired minutes ago, he started toward the kitchen, but jerked back around, frowning in confusion at the quick knock to his door. To say he was surprised to find Loki on the other side was an understatement. "Hey. You okay?" he asked with a small grin.

The student was biting his lip and tried a smile around that. "Yes. It's just, erm, there's something I've forgotten to tell you."

Feeling a little lighter now that he was seeing Loki again, Bucky leaned an arm against the doorjamb, and joked, "You have a boyfriend."

That made Loki snicker softly. He rolled his eyes, shook his head. "No. It's not that. I don't do that. I don't do boyfriends."

_What?_ "Okay…"

Twisting his lips, briefly biting them again, Loki took a few stretching moments to speak up. "I'm…leaving tomorrow."

And just like that Bucky's jovial mood drained. He straightened from leaning against the door and tried to sound as casual as he could. "Oh. Uh…where you going?"

"London." Loki almost looked like he was wincing. "_Back_ to London. There is a course at a university over there that I have been asked to participate. My project might feature in it, actually. Prominently."

Though a muted sadness settled in Bucky's belly, he couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement for Loki. "Wow. That's great! Um…so how, how long will you be gone?"

Loki went quiet again, breathing in deeply before answering, "Two years."

Slightly stunned, Bucky went still for the briefest of moments before he inhaled. But no words came out. He slowly let out the breath, his gaze falling away from Loki's.

"I should've said something earlier, but I didn't know—"

"No, no. It's…" Bucky shook his head, fighting the regret that threatened to overwhelm him. "It's great, Loki. I mean, this is what you want, right? For people to hear about your project? To put it out there."

"Yes," he nearly whispered. Bucky tried a smile, but knew it had to have looked pathetic. "Listen, a few of my friends are throwing a little something for me later. A goodbye thing." Looking at Bucky with sympathetic eyes, Loki bit his lip again. "I would like it very much if you came. If you can, that is."

"Yeah, I'd like that," Bucky answered much too quickly, more excited about seeing Loki again than he probably should be. But the smile that spread across Loki's face was worth it.

"All right. I'll text you the address when I figure it out."

Bucky nodded and tensed a little less than he had before as Loki leaned in again for another kiss. He grinned softly into the chaste and brief meeting of lips.

"See you later then."

With a wave and another nod, Bucky closed the door as Loki left again, leaning against it for a moment. Breathing a sigh, he quietly went about cleaning up Loki's mug and setting his beer can in a recycling bin. When he was done, he sat out on his flimsy excuse of a balcony to finish smoking the joint, while airing out the apartment that currently reeked of pot and sex.

After, he decided to take a short nap, and later, he freshened up with a quick shower. Returning to his bedroom he noticed he had received a text from Loki with the address of a bar in Manhattan. There was a small, fleeting flutter in Bucky's chest as he thought about meeting Loki's friends. He hadn't met the friends of someone he was sleeping with since…ever.

He stood in front of his closet, contemplating his wardrobe. After a good twenty minutes, he settled on a form-fitting white shirt, his nicest pair of jeans—with no flecks of oil or grease—and a light denim jacket. He was just finishing up with his hair, flicking at the dark strands with gel-covered fingers, when he heard the trill of his phone ringing.

Expecting it to be Loki, Bucky darted back into the bedroom to snatch it up from its charging spot on his desk. He bit back a sigh as Steve's face popped up on his screen and swiped the answer button with his pinky. "Hey, Steve."

_"Hey, buddy. How are you doing today?"_

"Good." He unplugged the phone and crossed to his bed, dropping down and reaching for one of his brown boots. They spoke briefly about their day before Bucky finally asked, "What's up?"

_"Well, Peggy and I are headed into the city tonight for dinner and drinks with a friend of hers visiting from…uh, I don't know. California or something. I thought you might want to join us. On me."_

Lacing up his boot, Bucky winced a little. "Ah, I can't."

_"Can't?"_

"Yeah, can't." He hesitated for a second, blowing out a breath as he straightened. "I've already got plans."

_"Oh! Yeah? That's great! What are you getting up to tonight?"_

He hesitated again, making a soft humming sound.

_"Buck?"_

"I…I met someone." Now why was that so scary to admit?

_"Oh…really?"_

Bucky chuckled at Steve's obvious surprise. He never divulged this kind of information to his best friend; he couldn't really blame him. "Yeah."

_"Well. What's his name?"_

"Loki," he answered, after clearing his throat.

Steve's chuckle was short but jubilant. _"Well, that's original."_ Bucky quietly agreed and slipped on his other boot. "_Sounds exotic. Where'd you meet him?"_

"At a club, last night." _Oops._ "I mean—um, I didn't—"

_"Last night?"_

"Y…eah, I wasn't—it was after. I left your place."

_"…Thought you were going home when you left my place last night, Buckster?"_

He could hear the teasing in Steve's voice and rolled his eyes, tugging down his pant leg over the top of his boot. "I was. Originally. I just…I didn't want to come home to…y'know, an empty place."

There was silence for a brief moment, and Bucky worried he may have shared too much. "_I hear you, pal,"_ Steve finally said. Relief flowed once more. "_Hey, why don't you bring him by tomorrow? We have plenty of food."_

"No. That's okay."

_"You sure? I don't mind. Neither would Peggy. Might be nice,"_ he added softly, almost as an afterthought.

"I-I'm sure. He's got other plans anyway."

_"Ah, all right. Well, you have fun tonight then."_

"Yeah, you, too."

_"See you tomorrow?"_

"Yep. I'll be there."

Bucky ended the call, a small smile tugging at his lips. He suddenly felt silly for being nervous about sharing even a name of someone he was interested in to Steve. Then he remembered Loki was leaving the next day. Pushing the thought away, telling himself he would think about that later, Bucky grabbed his keys and his wallet, and headed out to Manhattan.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Apologies, everyone! I've been hit with the flu so I wasn't able to post on Sunday. I'm still sick, and have been put on bed rest for a couple of days, but feeling well enough to post this (and not make you wait too long). Here's hoping any questions about Bucky or Loki will be answered…mostly. :P And thank you for your patience!**

**xoxo, La**

* * *

><p>Loki had been parked at a table for a good hour, enjoying the free drinks his friends were plying him with, carrying on conversations varying from work to school to family stress to, of course, sex. The bar was a nightly hangout for Loki's roommates, Natasha and Clint, who had recently acted on their brewing sexual tension and were now a couple. Loki wondered if things would be more awkward between them had he been a straight man. But Natasha was his closest friend and he thought the two of them made quite the couple.<p>

He and Natasha were giggling over another friend's dance moves when Clint returned to their high pub table and set a drink before him.

"Drink up, my good man."

"Are you trying to drown me in alcohol, Barton?" Despite his weak attempt at refusal, Loki's eyes lit up as he wrapped his fingers around the glass and brought it closer. "At this rate, you're going to have to carry me home." He brought the straw to his lips and sipped at the orange-colored drink anyway. "Mm, what is this called?"

Clint's blue eyes sparkled as he smirked. "A Slow Comfortable Screw Up Against the Wall. With a twist."

"Pervert." Natasha's husky voice was only loud enough for Clint and Loki to hear in the noisy bar. The blond man pursed his lips at her, blowing her a kiss.

"You love it." He reached up to kiss her temple after she elbowed him in the ribs.

"I love _this_," Loki murmured before he sipped some more of his drink, then poked at the ice with his straw.

"So where is this guy you invited?" Natasha asked, her burgundy curls bouncing as she turned away from Clint to question Loki. "Did he say whether or not he was coming?"

"I invited him. The rest is up to him." Loki lifted the highball glass to his lips and finished off the drink, setting it down to the table with a light slam. "Another. Ugh. That's my brother rubbing off on me."

Clint and Natasha were both staring at him when he glanced up and Loki snickered.

"Perhaps I will get this one myself. I see a familiar face at the bar." He smirked at his friends and sauntered over to the bar where he had seen Bucky head the second he slipped inside. Sliding up beside the mechanic, squeezing between him and another man at the crowded bar, leaning more into Bucky, he spoke up so Bucky would hear him. "Were you going to say hello?"

Bucky looked startled at first when he turned toward Loki, then slowly those pouty lips curved in a small smile. He glanced away, at the bartender, as the blonde, about to spill out of her shirt, set two bottles of beer in front of him. "I was just ordering you a drink," he replied, taking a bottle in each hand, offering one to Loki.

Loki grinned as he looked at the dark bottle. "I don't drink beer…"

"Oh." Bucky started to pull his hand back, but Loki snatched the bottle from him anyway, and brought it to his lips.

"First time for everything, right?" He winked and tipped the bottle back.

The smile Bucky gave him was almost affectionate. "That's what they say."

Loki chuckled and swallowed the drink, wincing as he did. "Oh, gods, this is awful. What the bloody hell is it?"

"You don't have to drink it," Bucky said with a laugh, plucking the bottle from Loki's hand. "I can get you something else." Loki smacked his lips, still making a sour face. "What would you like?"

Loki scrunched his nose and grinned at the brunet. "I'll have a Slow Comfortable Screw Up Against the Wall. With a twist." His grin deepened when Bucky's jaw went slack.

"Er—what—is that a real drink?"

Loki did his best to bite back his laughter, as he was quite enjoying Bucky's squirming. "Order it and find out."

"Loki…" Bucky laughed uneasily.

Giving in to his giggles, Loki laid a hand to Bucky's arm, feeling the tension in the muscles there. "You're adorable when you're uncomfortable." He let loose a whistle and waved down the bartender, ordering his drink.

The bartender grinned knowingly at them both and Bucky scoffed lightly. "You're such a little shit."

Loki leaned on the bar, smiling at the slightly blushing man. "That wouldn't be the first time I've heard that, believe me." After he received his drink, Loki jerked his head toward the front of the bar. "Come and meet my friends." He waited for Bucky to give him a nod then turned and led him to their table.

* * *

><p>Bucky steeled himself as he followed Loki to a table where a redheaded woman, two blond men, and a brunette woman were huddled together. Loki quickly introduced him to each; the redhead and the blond man with his arm around her were Loki's roommates, Natasha and Clint, a pair Loki had known since he moved to New York; the other blond, Fandral, an artist he had befriended while working in the art industry; and Sif, a pretty brunette who worked with him at the gallery.<p>

A little self-conscious in a straight bar, Bucky lingered on the edge of the group of friends, watching Loki as he divulged a tale to them all about one of his 'subjects.' The man had been much older than Loki, and into leather play and the Dom/sub culture. As Loki went on, clearly enjoying the attention his story was getting, Bucky noticed a man just behind the art student, occasionally glancing over with a disgusted look on his face.

Bucky tensed slightly. Though once he saw that the man turned his back to the group, he was able to relax again. He maneuvered his way back to the bar to order a round of shots, earning a few whoops and a pat on the back from Clint when he presented them to the raucous quintet. After Bucky returned from taking the small tray the shots had been carried on to the bar, he found that the group had splintered off.

A glance around and he saw that Fandral and Sif were among the throng of people on the small dance floor, jumping around, and Natasha was sitting at the table, nursing a tall, slim glass of a clear liquid. He idly wondered if it was water or vodka. And Loki and Clint had gone missing.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky saw a hand waving, and wandered over to the table to join Natasha. "You okay? You look lost."

Bucky set his beer down, sliding onto the high chair next to the redhead, grinning to himself. _Vodka_, he thought, when her breath wafted his way. "No, I'm cool. Though, I seem to have lost the guest of honor."

She grunted as she sipped the vodka. "He's in the early stages of an argument."

"…What?" She pointed across the room with her pinky. Bucky turned to follow the direction she was aiming and spotted Loki in what appeared to be a heated discussion with the man who had been giving the group foul looks earlier. "What is he talking to him about?"

"Oh, probably his favorite subject: heteronormativity."

The mechanic frowned at her. "Hetero-what?"

She breathed a small laugh, her heart-shaped mouth barely curving with it. "You mean he didn't go off about it when you spent the night together?" Bucky stiffened, his fingers tightening around his bottle of beer. Her long-lashed eyes darted down, and when she looked up at him again, she was smirking. "Relax. I'm his roommate. You think he wouldn't tell me all about his project?"

Bucky shifted on the stool, more embarrassed she had noticed his tension than anything. "No. Of course he would."

"He didn't play your tape for me, you know."

He took a long swig, dropping the bottle to the table with a clipped _clink_ and flicked his eyes up to hers. "That right?"

She propped her chin on her hand, eyeing him with deep green eyes. A different shade than Loki's, but no less probing or sharp. "Yup. You must have made some impression on him. He _always_ let's me listen."

Feeling his cheeks warm, from more than just the drink, Bucky chuckled, eyes focused on the bottles and glasses in front of him. "Well, I'm glad he didn't." He leaned away when Natasha leaned closer to him.

"Why? Is it really dirty?" He scoffed. "It is, isn't it?"

"No. It's not, honestly." He sat straight again when she sat back, grinning at him. He didn't look away from her until she looked toward Loki.

"I hope he at least told you he was leaving."

Studying the label of his empty beer bottle, Bucky nodded. "Yeah, he told me." He tried to laugh, but it sounded forced even to his own ears. "It would be weird if he invited me here and didn't, wouldn't it?"

Natasha rolled her eyes up when Bucky looked at her, lifting her glass to her lips. "Believe me. It wouldn't be the strangest thing he's ever done. Or the cruelest trick he's ever pulled."

He made a noise that sounded like a snort, and discreetly, he thought, snuck another peek at Loki. He could hear Loki's infectious laugh across the bar as the raven-haired man patted the other on the back. And he could feel Natasha watching him.

"I don't think he'll go," she said suddenly.

His brows twitching together, Bucky turned his attention to her. "Excuse me?"

"He's not gonna go. I've got fifty bucks riding on it. He's been gone way too long. He left London to get away from his parents. Says they're overbearing and he's always had issues with his dad. The only one he would want to see is his brother, but the last time he saw him they fought. So…"

Bucky frowned, unsure Natasha should be telling him such personal things about Loki's life that the man hadn't shared with Bucky himself yet. If he even planned to. "He's not going back for them, though. Right? He's going for this course."

The redhead gave a half-hearted shrug. "Yeah, that's the convenient excuse."

Bucky pushed his lips out, thinking, wondering. His curiosity won out in the end. "Excuse for what?"

Natasha tipped her head, regarding Bucky silently for a moment, as she flicked a burgundy curl away from her eyes. "Did he explain how he started this project?"

Bucky started to shake his head no, then shrugged. "He might've. I was pretty wasted when we…got back to my place."

Her lips moved to one side and Bucky assumed that was the closest to a smile he was going to get from the woman. "He was in a relationship up until last year. A pretty serious one."

Anxious again, Bucky glanced back toward Loki's way, and saw that he had ditched the older man and was now jumping around on the dance floor with Fandral and Sif.

"At least for Loki it was serious. Tony—that was the guy—he cheated on him. And when Loki found out, the whole thing just…exploded." She eyed Bucky for a second. "It wasn't just once; it was, like, constant. Throughout the whole time they were together. And it wasn't just guys. There were some females in the mix, too."

Bucky fought not to fidget. He was torn between his curiosity to learn more about Loki and the feeling that he was invading Loki's privacy, inadvertent as it was. But Natasha continued as if she hadn't noticed his uneasiness.

"He said he didn't care. And he acted like it, too. But I could tell. He was…devastated. Pissed, even. He's sworn off relationships ever since."

_I don't do boyfriends_, echoed in Bucky's mind.

"Then he started this thing. I don't know. Feels like he's just fucking around for the hell of it. Like, maybe he's trying to figure out why Tony cheated on him. What he could have done different?"

Bucky remained silent, considering her words. He looked up, his blue eyes wide, as Loki had wandered back over, nearly crashing into the table as his foot stumbled against the leg of an empty chair.

"What are you two up to over here?"

"Nothing," Bucky answered quickly, automatically throwing out his arm when Loki was shoved aside by a passerby.

"Whoops." He straightened, and tried to hold onto Bucky's hand, but the mechanic pulled it back into his lap before he could. "Is the Russian czarina spilling all my dirty little secrets?"

"Oh, please. Like they're secrets."

"Hush." Loki pouted playfully at her. "I think you'd better collect your boyfriend before he hurts himself." He jutted his chin toward somewhere over her shoulder where Clint was moments away from getting into a brawl with a man twice his size over a pool game. Natasha groaned and slipped off the stool.

"Why do I always have to rescue him?"

Bucky watched her go, wondering what she was going to do. But his attention was pulled away when Loki's elbow bumped his. Bucky turned his gaze onto Loki, standing beside him, arms crossed on the tabletop. He stilled when Loki absently licked his lips.

"Having fun?"

He nodded, his eyes falling to Loki's now dampened lips. He forced his gaze up to those clouded green eyes, and breathed a small laugh. "What?"

Loki shrugged, leaning further into Bucky. "You look like you want to kiss me."

"I do." Bucky felt his heart rate pick up at the admission; heat filled his belly.

Loki's chin ticked up a notch, inching his mouth closer to Bucky's, in offering. "Well?"

Bucky's tongue poked out to moisten his own lips. Then he caught a glimpse of someone watching them and looked away, scratching at his scalp. "I can't. Not here."

Loki sighed loudly, slapping his palms to the tabletop. "Come on, then. Let's get the fuck out of here, darling."

The mechanic blinked at the endearment, but quickly brushed it off, chalking it up to Loki being a little tipsy. "Uh, where are we going?"

"Away."

Bucky started to speak again, to ask for more clarification, to see if he wanted to say goodbye to his friends first, but Loki was already halfway to the door. So Bucky followed, dropping a few bills to the table before he went. And Natasha's words settling irritatingly in the back of his mind.

* * *

><p>Loki didn't stop to wait for Bucky; he just headed straight for Central Park. Once the mechanic caught up to him, he spared him a quick glance. "Did you have fun?"<p>

"Yeah. Your friends are nice. At least…well, they're nice."

"'At least?'" Loki slowed his steps, lifting a brow at Bucky's statement. "What does that mean?"

Bucky shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and shook his head. "Nothing. They're cool. I liked them."

Loki laughed, playfully shoving at Bucky. "I have yet to reveal this to you, but I have this innate sense that tells me when someone is lying to me."

Bucky grinned bashfully, and nudged Loki back. "Oh yeah? Is your spidey sense tingling?"

"Cute," he replied with a snort. "Tell me. Did Fandral flirt with you? I wouldn't take it seriously. He flirts with anything with a heartbeat. Men and women of all shapes and sizes. Did one of them say something to you?"

They came to a corner and Bucky faced him, while they waited to cross the street. "And what would they tell me, Loki?"

Testing, always testing and pushing limits, Loki moved closer to Bucky until he could smell the beer on his breath. His lips twitched when the mechanic tensed up. "Don't play coy with me, James. I'm better at it."

Bucky cleared his throat, still thrown off by the use of his full name, and took a step back. He didn't respond to Loki, instead turning to follow the small crowd into the street. "It's nothing," he finally answered, once they had reached the other side. "It's just…"

Loki wasn't sure why he found Bucky's reluctance to be affectionate, or even acknowledge him as more than an acquaintance in public, amusing. Usually, he would take offense and drop the man quickly. But there was something about the mechanic… "Just what?"

"I wouldn't want my friend to be talking about what I would consider private stuff to some guy I had just introduced them to."

He laughed, tilted his head back on a soft, but exasperated sigh. "Natasha." It was a statement, not a question.

"I don't think she meant anything by it…"

"No, I'm sure she didn't." Loki glanced at Bucky as they neared the park. "So what did she tell you?"

Bucky lifted his shoulders, keeping them raised for a moment, but he didn't look at Loki. "She said they've got a bet going. That you won't go to London."

Loki grinned at him, nodded, when Bucky peeked up at him. "I knew about the bet." He chuckled as he looked away. "They believe themselves to be so covert." He watched a soda can roll away as Bucky kicked at it. "Did she tell you anything else?"

A quiet moment passed before Bucky answered, "Nah, not really."

Loki didn't believe him for a second. Catching something in the air, he tugged on Bucky's sleeve and started to pull him in another direction.

"Whoa. Where are you taking me?"

"Do you hear that?" He tapped a finger to his ear. In the distance, music could be heard, but it was still too far away to decipher what kind of music just yet. "Are you in the mood for an outdoor concert?"

Bucky was straining to listen, but slowly, he smiled and nodded. "Yeah."

Crossing through the park, under thick-leaved trees, and dodging other night walkers, Loki led Bucky to Rumsey Playfield, where a jazz concert was taking place. The pair stood off to the side, behind the small crowd that had gathered throughout the night. Loki bounced lightly along with the music while Bucky stood perfectly still, a small smile on his face.

"I am excited to go," Loki said out of nowhere, glancing over at Bucky at the same time the other turned his head. "To London," he clarified.

Those full lips pushed out again as Bucky nodded. "You sounded like you were when you told me earlier."

"I wouldn't say I'm looking forward to seeing my family, but we all have had that kind of prob…" Loki caught himself before he finished the sentence and winced. But the sentiment had already been put out there. "I am sorry."

Bucky smiled softly and waved it off. And that was the reason he didn't often tell people he was an orphan.

They listened to a couple more songs before Loki turned to Bucky, a soft smile curving his lips. "Shall we return to your place?"

"Oh…" Bucky's brows rose high above his wide blue eyes. "Yeah, if you want to."

"I want."

The mechanic snickered, and looked around, trying to figure out which way they should go. They took the nearest path to exit the park and walked to the closest subway station. "So…back at the bar, what were you talking to that guy about?" Bucky asked once they were seated.

Loki hummed derisively. "I overheard him complaining about our group."

"Why?"

"He said we were making too much noise."

"In a bar?"

He looked at Bucky with an expression that said he was impressed. "Exactly. Anyway, turns out what he was really complaining about was the content of our conversations."

"What part? There were a lot of conversations."

"The part where I was describing the Dom I spent an interesting evening with." Loki's chuckle escaped a little when Bucky's cheeks went pink, and he dropped his chin to his chest. "I accused him of being homophobic."

Bucky's head snapped up. "You didn't…"

When Loki turned to look at Bucky this time, he leaned away a little to eye him very directly. "I did. And he was. If I was talking about whipping some large-chested blonde or was a woman saying the exact same things, there would have been no complaints. He would have stood there listening raptly, slacks jutting out with his pathetic little erection."

Bucky's eyes darted around and he hunched into himself a little. Loki saw this and straightened in his seat, rolling his eyes. But he said nothing about it.

"We were able to eventually agree to let bygones be bygones. But…it's pathetic really. The whole world is brainwashed. Gender roles and the idea that marriage should only be between a man and a woman are so forced down our throats; it's as if no one can think or feel for themselves anymore."

Loki blinked as Bucky jumped up suddenly. "Here's my stop."

He was still sitting, trying to mentally catch up, as Bucky moved to wait at the sliding doors. Frowning slightly, he stood and belatedly followed.

* * *

><p>Bucky felt edgy as he led Loki into his place. Once they were inside he offered Loki a smoke, but the art student countered with an offer of something with "a little more kick," and dangled a gram of cocaine in front of him. Bucky was no stranger to the drug, and hoping it might ease his edginess, he shrugged his acquiescence.<p>

Loki moved to the living room, lowering himself to the floor between the sofa and the coffee table. Getting comfortable, he cleared some space and tapped out a small amount of the powdered drug, taking his bank card from his wallet to start separating it into lines. While Loki busied himself with that, Bucky grabbed two shot glasses and a half-full bottle of vodka from the freezer, and carried it into the living room, joining Loki on the floor.

The cocaine had been separated into four thin lines, and strangely conveniently, Loki already had a pre-rolled up bill. Once Bucky had settled, Loki offered him the bill. Nodding his thanks, the former soldier took the bill and quickly snorted up one line. Resisting the urge to sneeze, Bucky took a moment to enjoy feeling the drug slide down his throat, then handed back the bill. Loki wasted no time in snorting up both of his lines, wiping the residue from around his nose after, and sniffling.

"Do you do this often?"

"What's that? Get high?"

"Get high with the guys you…your subjects?"

Loki smirked and sat back against the sofa, waiting for Bucky to finish pouring them both a shot. "I do whatever my _subjects_ want. It just so happened my good friend Fandral handed this over as a parting gift."

Briefly, Bucky wondered if Loki and Fandral had ever done it. But he discouraged that line of thinking immediately. It wasn't his place to wonder. "You didn't say goodbye to them. Your friends," he pointed out, sniffling.

"I'm not overly fond of goodbyes," he replied with a shake of his head. It fell silent following Loki's answer, and Bucky knew they were both thinking the same thing: _Will Loki say goodbye to Bucky?_ Loki pulled him from his thoughts when he rapped a knuckle against the table, jutted his chin toward the table. "Are you going to catch up?"

He looked down at the last line, contemplating, then snatched the bill from Loki's fingers, and snorted up the line. "Ooh…" He coughed, sniffled, and swiped up the remnants of the line with his finger, licked it off. "You know…there's something I didn't tell you earlier."

Loki bobbed his brows as he reached into his sweater pocket and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. "You have a boyfriend."

Bucky chuckled. "No. I…I kind of keep a record, too."

"Of?" Loki mumbled the word around the unlit cigarette. He lit it and blew out a long stream of smoke, eyeing Bucky as the mechanic shrugged, idly picking at the loosened wood of the table.

"The guys I meet."

Loki took a deep drag then silently offered it to Bucky. "Really?"

"Yeah," he answered softly, politely declining the offer. "It's a little less public, of course."

"Mm," he hummed in agreement, chuckling as he exhaled smoke through his nose. "May I hear an entry or two?"

Bucky looked up at him with wide, surprised eyes. "Yeah…?" Loki nodded. "All right." Bucky scrambled to his feet and retrieved his laptop from his bedroom. Taking his spot on the floor again, setting the laptop up on the coffee table, Bucky read through a couple of entries as Loki listened raptly. After reading a third, he paused to take a shot of vodka. "It's not quite so…deep as yours, I guess."

Loki swiped his fingers over his nose, sipped at his vodka. "No, but mine is for research. Yours is…more personal, yes?"

"Maybe…" He shrugged lazily, feeling the effects of the drug and the drink, but he was liking the haze it was putting on him. He peeked up at Loki, smoking silently across from him, and hoped he wouldn't ask to hear what Bucky had written about him.

"Why do you write them?" he suddenly asked instead.

He took a moment to think about it. Bashful about his answer, Bucky shrugged, avoiding Loki's eyes. "To remember? Preserving some semblance of memories. I can't…" His mouth worked, trying to find the words, to not make himself sound so pitiful. "I don't have any memories of my childhood really. No pictures, no home videos. It wasn't until Steve and I joined the army that I even had a picture to attach to a wall or a mirror."

He chanced a glance at Loki then, and saw a flash of sympathy in his eyes before it disappeared. It was so quick, Bucky wondered if he had imagined it. Loki shifted on the floor, then seemingly changing his mind, he pushed up to slide back on the sofa.

"Sentiment is a waste of time. Ultimately, everyone is out for themselves, anyway. This is why I left home. This is why I'm leaving New York. I grow tired of people calling themselves my friends, or worse, _family_, keeping me down, forming and shaping me into the image they want of me. _Cementing_ me to their liking."

Confused by the anger in Loki's tone, Bucky frowned, angling his head to the side. "What are you talking about?" Taking one last puff, Loki stabbed out his cigarette, harder than necessary in the ashtray on the table, blowing out the smoke while looking, almost glaring, at Bucky. "What image are they trying to shape you into?"

He scoffed softly, grinned sardonically. "Why, the image of the socially acceptable homosexual man, of course."

"Does that even exist?" Bucky asked with a scoff.

"Oh, yes." He gestured vaguely toward the bedroom. "Look in the mirror, darling."

The disbelieving grin on Bucky's face disappeared at the repeated endearment, and he nearly pouted at Loki's inference. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. I am simply saying…" He let out a long breath, pushing his hands through his raven hair. "The more progressive heterosexuals of this world are totally fine with homosexuals, as long as we don't act like homosexuals."

Bucky threw up a hand. "Who decides what's acceptable?"

"The entire heterosexual fucking world!" The veins in Loki's neck pulsed as he shouted. "As long as you don't flaunt in their faces how much you love to suck cock, and never bring said owner of cock into their space, they will absolutely be 'tolerant.'" He emphasized his point with finger quotes. "It's bullshit. Especially when you consider how in-your-face the heterosexual lifestyle is."

Bucky was still frowning, but it was more in thought now. "How so?"

"It's everywhere, James!" Loki laughed sarcastically. "Movies, television, billboards, music. From the moment we're born, we are being told our ultimate happiness will be found when we find the right boy-slash-girl, get married, buy a house, and pop out two-point-five rugrats. They don't tell you about anything in between."

Bucky brought his knees up to rest his chin on them, quietly contemplating. "Not everyone buys into that," he said softly after a few quiet moments. Heated viridian flicked up to Bucky. He just moved a shoulder. "Not even all straight people do. And, by the way, just because I don't screech like I'm hopped up on helium or wear hot pink everyday doesn't mean I'm conforming either."

Loki seemed to mull that over, giving a small nod. "What of your friend?"

"Who? Steve? What about him?"

"How did he react when you came out to him?"

"He…" Bucky thought back to how Steve found out he was gay. He had walked in on Bucky and a team member from their track team making out behind the school's gymnasium sometime in their junior year of high school. "I never really had that coming out moment with him. With anyone, really."

His gaze lowered when Loki's brows twitched. "Why not? How did he find out?"

Slightly uncomfortable again, Bucky shrugged. "Just 'cause. He found me with a guy."

"And you didn't discuss it…?"

He pursed his lips, shook his head. When Bucky spoke, his lips were still close together. "Steve doesn't…he's not a guy who talks about that kind of stuff." Without lifting his head, Bucky looked up at Loki. "Sex, in general."

"What was his reaction?"

"He apologized for interrupting. And left."

"Hmm," Loki hummed after a moment. He shoved up the sleeves of his sweater and stretched out on the sofa. Bucky narrowed his eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing."

The mechanic frowned again. "Well…what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Tell me your story."

Loki turned his head to glance at him, grinned, chuckled, and looked back up at the ceiling. "I didn't so much come out as I was _pushed_ out."

Bucky started to crawl around the table, and settled against the sofa, in the spot Loki occupied had moments before. "Tell me about it." He supposed it was because he was in close proximity that Loki started to brush his fingers through Bucky's hair. It sent chills down his spine to feel fingers against his scalp like that.

"Are you going to add my story to your collection?" Bucky could practically hear the grin in Loki's voice. So when he turned his head enough to glance at him, he was grinning back.

"If you make the cut."

Loki snorted, pushed at Bucky's face. He shifted again, turning onto his side, cradling his head up on his hand. "I knew from a young age I liked boys in a way that girls were supposed to. But I kept it to myself because I was already…an outsider."

"How?"

"I had always been small for my age. Thinner, frailer than the others."

"You're like six feet tall," Bucky pointed out.

"Six-foot-two, actually," he pointed out with a hint of pride. "Now, at least. But I've also always been slim and gangly."

Bucky shoved himself around to face Loki, resting an arm on the sofa cushion near the other man's stomach. "You have a gorgeous body, Loki."

He looked up at Bucky, who blushed and looked away briefly, and smirked softly. "Nonetheless. I was an easy target. Overly sensitive. A bookworm. I think 'nerd' was an apt term for me." A line formed between his black brows as he thought back over that time. "Do you know that film _American Gigolo_?"

"The one with Richard Gere? Yeah."

"Well. I discovered it when I was in my teens. I wore out my mother's VHS copy, so I purchased another on DVD. And…well, I was quite taken by him. He was…"

"Beautiful," Bucky murmured helpfully and Loki looked at him, smiled.

"Yes. Anyway…I thought I was home alone after school one day. My brother was on several sports teams and spent much of his time training, so I hadn't expected anyone for a few hours. So there I was, fapping off to Richard Gere's fantastic body, and I'd just come all over myself. And my brother's friend burst in."

"Oh, god."

Loki sighed, shaking his head at the memory. "Idiot couldn't keep it to himself, of course. My parents had heard before they had stepped into the house and it was all over school by the next day."

"Shit…"

"Yes," he chuckled. "Shit. They had a new reason to torture me then. Anyway…" Loki dropped his head on his arm and reached out to toy with Bucky's hair again. Bucky forced himself not to tense up. Because he kind of liked it. "Life was pretty miserable until I left for university."

"Your parents okay with it now?"

"Hm. That's where the whole conformity issue comes in."

"Oh…" Bucky bit into his lip and eyed Loki for the briefest of moments, trying not to laugh at the tickling sensation of his long finger tracing the shell of his ear. "Hey, if I ask you something, promise not to get mad?"

Loki dragged his finger under Bucky's ear, down his jaw, and pressed the pad of it to the dip in his chin. "Ask, James."

The corners of Bucky's lips lifted. "How old are you?"

Loki gave him an exasperated look and scoffed softly. "Thirty-three. And you?"

Suppressing his surprise, because he had thought Loki was in his mid-twenties, Bucky chuckled shyly. "Thirty-one next month."

"Hmm, you look good for your age."

He snickered, wondering when his hand had ended up toying with Loki's on top of the sofa, tracing the lines of his smooth palm. "So what are your parents gonna do when you decide to get married?"

"Oh, that won't be an issue." Loki took his hand from Bucky's and sat up, swinging his legs down to the floor. "I don't plan to marry."

Bucky blinked. "Ever?"

"No." Loki reached for Bucky's laptop and sat back with it on his lap. "May I read another entry?"

He wasn't sure why that revelation should have thrown him so much; still, it took Bucky a moment to process what Loki was asking. "What—yeah, go ahead." As Loki pulled up another random entry, Bucky reached for the vodka and poured more into his shot glass.

Loki cleared his throat and began as if he was at a poetry reading. "'Went home with a guy tonight. He said his name was Robert, but I had a feeling that wasn't really true. His apartment was uptown, fancy. He said he was a student, but he certainly didn't live like one. He was a good kisser. A little handsy. Incessant tongue.'"

He laughed and Bucky smacked a hand against his leg.

"'I don't normally go for guys with facial hair, but I didn't mind this one's nicely groomed…goa…tee…"

Bucky knocked back another shot and looked up at Loki when his words faltered. His face was illuminated blue by the light of the laptop and contorted into a frown.

"'He wanted to fuck me, but I wouldn't let him. He asked me why and I told him I'd never done it that way before.'" Pausing again, Loki's eyes moved to Bucky. "Have you since?" The mechanic shook his head.

Bucky moved over a little as Loki slid down to sit beside him and continued.

"'We went on for hours, in different positions that Robert suggested, and by the time we finished, the sun was coming up. I wanted to stay. I was sleepy. But he nicely asked me to leave and even offered to pay for a cab. When I asked what the rush was, he said…he said he had a boyfriend. I felt bad for sleeping with him then. So I got dressed and came home."

Bucky felt odd all of a sudden. He could have easily blamed the drug and drink, but a part of him knew it was that entry that made the room tense. He watched Loki close the laptop and reach for the bottle of vodka, taking a swig from it directly without bothering with a shot glass.

"What did he look like? Aside from the goatee."

Bucky grew more anxious at Loki's question. "…Why?"

Loki turned his head then. He grinned, but it didn't light up his eyes as it normally did. And Bucky could have sworn his eyes were more watery than before. "Curious," he answered softly.

"Dark hair. A little darker than mine. Brown eyes. Kind of short." Suspicious now, Bucky leaned in closer. "Why do want to know, Loki?"

Loki answered with a scoff. "You're a terrible liar, James."

"What?"

"And Natasha has a big mouth."

Bucky rubbed the heel of his hand over his eye, the guilt from that night washing over him again as everything clicked into place. "I didn't know it was him," he said on a sigh.

"I know." Loki made a disgusted noise in his throat and took another drink. "It didn't bother me, you know," he said after swallowing. "All the cheating. It was the lying that…" He breathed in deeply. "Hurt. He was _really _good at it."

"Is he the reason you don't want to get married?"

Eyes moving first, Loki slowly turned his head to scowl at Bucky. "_No_," he answered emphatically. "I don't want to get married because I—look, I will absolutely join the fight for equality in marriage, because no one has the right to tell anyone else whom they can or cannot love. That does not mean _I_ want to participate in a ritual so antiquated it should have been outlawed centuries ago. Even to this day, it is used more for business purposes than because two people love each other. Tie myself to one man for the rest of my life, for what? So he can leave me a few years into it, after he's gotten bored, or found someone else? No, thank you."

"Why do you think it would be like that?"

"History. Experience."

"But, Loki…" Bucky turned himself, resting an arm on the sofa, and faced Loki, though the other was looking anywhere but at him. "Not every relationship will be like what you had with…'Robert.'"

"Anthony," Loki muttered tightly. "His name was Anthony."

"Okay, Anthony."

"He preferred others to call him Tony."

Bucky sighed sharply, biting back a smart retort. "Okay. Not everyone is like him. Hell, not even every relationship gets to the point of marriage. Some people spend their whole lives together without getting married. You can't seriously expect to never meet someone you might want to marry. Why fight for it then?"

Loki said nothing at first, keeping his eyes hidden by lowering them to his hands, in his lap, fiddling with a small piece of scrap paper. "James…" he started softly. "It is not as if I do not think you would make an excellent partner…"

"That's not what I—"

Loki silenced Bucky's protestation by laying a hand on his arm. "I simply am not in a place where I _want_ a relationship."

Bucky was at a loss for words. He hadn't been speaking of himself and Loki. He wasn't stupid; this wasn't love. But Loki's blasé reaction to everything bothered him. Especially since he could see the hurt in the man's eyes. Not wanting to get into an argument, knowing the drugs coursing through his system wouldn't allow him to be competent enough to say what he wanted, and likely push Loki into a fight, Bucky pushed up to his feet.

"I'm gonna…use the bathroom."

"James…"

"I'll be right back."

The statement came out a tad more gruff than the mechanic meant it to, and though he nearly tripped on the leg of the coffee table, he continued on to the bathroom without looking back.

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><p><strong>2nd AN: what a couple of butts. As always comments, thoughts, reviews, constructive criticism are welcome. xoxo**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: So Chap 6 isn't finished yet. Let's hope I can crank it out by next Sunday, but it'll be a busy week since tomorrow is mah berfday and I have a week of classes to catch up on. And, in case anyone is wondering, I am working on the GTWK update as well. It's turning out longer than I expected so we'll see what happens with that.**

**I've gotten some feedback on the story (thank you, darlings!) but I'd love any other thoughts, too. This chapter gets a little deep for both our boys, so it would help me out since I haven't even decided how I'm going to end this. :P**

**xoxo, La**

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><p>Loki threw his head back against the sofa cushion, groaning softly.<p>

"Good job, you fool," he mumbled to himself.

He hadn't meant to get into that, really. He should know better. When he drank, or when he was high, he wasn't the one to crack jokes or become overtly sexual—as Anthony often had. No, Loki would become aggressively argumentative. His need to be right would go into overdrive. He lost many a friend that way.

Bucky had pushed his buttons—which was a shock in and of itself. And discovering that he had slept with Anthony—while he and Loki were still together, he surmised by the date—only added to his agitation. But he shouldn't have taken his hurt and anger out on Bucky. It merely pissed him off more that after a year, Anthony was still affecting him like this.

Loki's train of thought stopped dead in its tracks. It suddenly struck him that he actually _hadn't _thought about Anthony at all since he met Bucky. Usually when he met with a subject, Loki spent most of their time together comparing him to Anthony. His looks, height, the style of kissing, likes and dislikes, the way he made love.

But not with Bucky.

Hearing a ruckus outside in the street, Loki rose and stepped out onto the tiny balcony. The air was cool this night and felt refreshing on his skin, heated from the heightened emotions and alcohol and cocaine. Whatever to-do had caught his attention quickly died down, but Loki remained on the balcony, arms crossed atop the rusty rail about its edge. He heard movement behind him, but didn't yet turn around, letting Bucky decide if he wanted to join him.

He smelled the joint first. Then Bucky was joining him on the balcony. "Hey," the mechanic greeted softly.

Loki glanced his way briefly. "Hello."

Bucky had no furniture out here, no table to lean against or chair to relax on. Just a simple crate in the corner that he pulled out now and lowered to, a stub of a marijuana cigarette between his full lips. "Want a hit?" he asked around it before inhaling deeply.

Loki watched him, lit by the dim light in the apartment, and felt a stirring of desire. He was almost positive the man had no idea just how attractive he was. Idly, he wondered what his friend Steven looked like; if Bucky somehow felt inadequate because of him. Loki couldn't imagine why Bucky didn't have a fleet of men chasing after him. Minor emotional flaws aside, he seemed to be quite a catch. He gave a nod, took one step forward, and gently took the joint from between Bucky's lips, bringing it to his own, and taking a deep pull. He held it all in for as long as he could, blowing out the smoke as Bucky rose and moved next to him. Bucky took back the joint and Loki hummed to himself, already feeling more relaxed.

"'M…sorry about earlier," Bucky murmured, breaking into the quiet between them.

"No, I should apologize," he replied, turning to lean one elbow on the railing. "I can get quite carried away." He grinned softly when Bucky lifted his eyes to him, but when those blues eyes stayed on his, so focused and intent, it made the student's breath catch a little. "It's—it is a passionate subject for me."

Bucky blew out smoke slowly and nodded then shrugged. "Maybe. But I shouldn't have pushed what I—" He jerked a little as Loki placed a finger over his lips, and started to lean in.

"Shh…"

"But, I didn't mean to—"

Loki closed the distance between their mouths, kissing the mechanic only briefly, letting Bucky decide if he wanted more. Bucky let his eyes roam over Loki's face, and for a moment, Loki thought he had made a mistake. But before he could speak up, Bucky took him by the chin and crushed their lips together.

The kiss began slow, lingering, but the intent, the warming desire was there with each little lick of Loki's tongue, each suckle from Bucky's lips. Bucky tossed the remainder of the joint to the ground by their feet, crushing it out with his foot, and together, he and Loki began to maneuver their way to the bedroom, losing clothes along the way. When they fell to the bed, they were skin to skin.

They moved slower this time; rough, callused hands explored soft, smooth skin; long, pale fingers traced defined, taut, tanned muscles and sought sensitive spots. By the time Loki kissed his way down the length of Bucky's body, and took him fully to the back of his throat, the mechanic was a writhing mass of need.

Bucky couldn't recall when he'd had a better blow job. Loki certainly knew how to work that talented tongue of his to get Bucky to moan his name. They were both taken by surprise when Bucky stopped Loki in the middle of his aggressive deep-throating, to pull his face up to his own, kissed him softly, and in a near whisper asked Loki to fuck him.

"Are you sure?" the student asked, pressing a hand to Bucky's chest, feeling his racing heart beneath his palm. "You don't have to because of…"

"I know. I want you to," Bucky answered.

A condom and lubricant were easily retrieved, and Loki went about gently preparing Bucky with first one, then two coated fingers, gradually working his way up to three. All the while he cooed soft reassurances to Bucky, slowly stroking him to keep the mechanic relaxed. Finally, Loki took himself in hand, lined himself up to Bucky's entrance, and slowly tried to push in. After two more attempts, and more lube than Bucky had ever used before, Loki successfully breached the loosened, yet still tight ring of muscle, easing in until he was fully sheathed.

At first, Bucky remained perfectly still, afraid if he moved it would hurt; there was already a slight, slow burn from stretching just that bit more to accommodate Loki's impressive length. Bucky may have been thicker than Loki, but the student's cock was definitely nothing to scoff at. It was a strange feeling, being practically impaled on another man's length. He wondered if this was how the other men he had been with felt when Bucky was inside them. Did they have this same incredible sensation of being _filled_?

Loki's grip on his hips tightened, pulling him from his thoughts, and he grunted as the bed dipped beneath him as he shifted.

"_James_," he moaned. "If you're going to continue to clench around me like that—_ungh_—I'm going to have to insist you allow me to move. Mnnngh…"

Bucky's eyelids felt heavy and he struggled to lift them to look up at Loki—a vision himself, all pale, slick skin and taut, sinewy muscles, with that raven hair falling around his shoulders in stark contrast. Bucky knew, the moment their eyes met—no bright blue or vivid viridian now; only matching pairs of near black—that he had made the right decision.

He swallowed, and when he spoke his voice was thick and husky. "Move, Loki."

A grin curving his lips, Loki slid himself halfway out then pumped his hips forward. And had Bucky seeing stars. The former soldier had never felt such an intoxicating mixture of pleasure and pain. His toes curled in, his thighs tightened around Loki's waist, and his fingers dug into the firm skin of the student's forearms. Loki started with a slow pace at first, wanting to let Bucky get used to him before he built up to a quicker rhythm. But the man's reactions, the way he subtly pushed back against Loki, and ground his pelvis against Loki's, had the student fighting back the urge to pound into the mechanic.

Then those hands were on him. Rough, work-worn mechanic's hands grabbing at him, short, blunt nails leaving marks on his pale skin. Loki couldn't hold back anymore. Animal instinct took over and had his hips snapping sharply into Bucky, eliciting deep guttural moans from them both, then suddenly a hand was in his hair, tugging him down into a hard, wet kiss.

"Are you…all right?" he asked through pants and gasps, hips still moving, slick skin slapping against slick skin.

Bucky's mouth hung open, unable to form any words through his heavy breaths, and gave a quick nod. Loki smirked, as best he could, and trailed a hand down Bucky's torso to his cock, and began stroking him in time with his thrusts.

"Wait, wait…" Bucky gasped in a deep breath, his hand pressing into Loki's chest as his pumping slowed. He made a soft noise, a whimper, as Loki started to pull out.

"Did I hurt—"

"No. No, keep going. I'm fine." His eyes closed on a soft hum as Loki started to move again, his hand slid up to curl around the long column of Loki's neck.

Loki could feel pleasure, gooseflesh-inducing and white hot, building at the base of his spine and knew he wouldn't be able to last much longer. But he was determined to have Bucky release first. Their lips met intermittently, clumsily crashing together as their bodies moved together. "Are you…ngh, close?"

"Mm-mm-hnng…yes!"

Balancing on one fist, forehead pressed to Bucky's, Loki pushed his body to its limits, pumping his hips and hand in tandem, until he felt Bucky clench tightly around him and let out a strangled gasp as he started to spill between them. His hand slowed around Bucky's length, milking him of every last drop until he stopped spasming between his fingers.

Bucky's vision had gone blurry, and for a moment he was disoriented, lost in the haze of the strongest orgasm he had ever experienced. It was only when Loki had pushed his legs down and straddled him, and he heard the snap of a condom being ripped off, that he remembered where he was. He watched Loki stroke himself to completion, running his hand over that glorious body as Loki arched back on top of him.

Once their heartbeats returned to normal, and the mess on Bucky's chest was cleaned up, their exhausted, sated bodies came together again, curling against each other under the covers as a cool breeze from the open window drifted in. They laid in silence, Loki's fingers lazily stroking Bucky's chest and collarbone as Bucky's traced along the length of Loki's arm, until one of them reached out to flick off the light, just as the sun began to come up.

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><p>Bucky's body ached in the most wonderful way, but he didn't want to sleep. yet He wanted to continue talking with Loki, softly, as if someone would hear them, huddled under the comforter on his bed. They talked about everything and nothing. And at some point, Loki's head was nestled beneath Bucky's chin against his chest.<p>

"Why did you not ask Anthony about his coming out story?"

Bucky trailed two fingers over the curve of Loki's shoulder, frowned. "What…?"

"With your…hm, shall we call them lovers? You speak to each about the circumstances of them coming out. But not him. I was simply wondering why that was."

Bucky's hand stopped, came to rest at Loki's hip. "He didn't really…there wasn't really time to ask." Loki leaned back and touched his finger to the mechanic's chin, tapping the pad of it lightly against the slight indention in the center of it, drawing Bucky's sleepy blue-eyed gaze. "He didn't give me a chance," he nearly whispered.

"Hm." Loki dragged the finger down the underside of Bucky's chin, following a line over his Adam's apple, down to his chest, and idly began to twirl his fingers in the soft tufts of hair there. "James…have you ever given any thought as to why you are so curious of others' coming out stories?"

Bucky's lashes fluttered a little, as he gave a slight eye roll, and grinned. His fingers brushed repeatedly at Loki's neck, toying with his silky hair. "No. But I'm guessing you have a theory." He groaned softly as Loki shifted over him, letting some of the cool air into the bed. "Loki…"

"Hear me out before you brush it off?" Bucky motioned for him to continue, lifting one leg under the comforter and slipping it around Loki's. "I think your need to document your lovers' coming out stories, their preferences, their…manner of making love, all of it; it all stems from the fact that you have never really come out yourself."

The small grin on Bucky's face faded slowly, a thoughtful expression washing over his face.

"You didn't have parents to come out to. None that you would care enough about to do so, I assume…" He trailed off waiting for Bucky's nod of agreement. "And, though you had that moment with your friend, Steven…"

"Steve." Bucky's voice was gravelly, from his grogginess, when he corrected Loki.

His lips twitched. "Steve. Even then…you didn't really come out. And being able to hear different stories, good and bad, fills a hole that was left. Does any of this makes sense?"

Bucky let that settle in his mind, finding some truth in it. "You have a point," he yielded softly, shifting his body enough to have Loki rolling off of him. Free of the weight, and the loss of the warmth, the mechanic turned on his side, curling into the blankets, as Loki did the same.

"So why don't you?" The student offered once he had settled.

"Why don't I what?" Bucky's eyes searched Loki's face. What he really wanted to do was end the conversation, pull that slim body close, and catch a few hours of sleep. But a slight curve of those lips, and the confident glint apparent even in sleepy viridian eyes, still had him captivated.

"Come out."

Bucky's dark eyebrows drew together. "To…?"

Loki chuckled. "Me, you twit."

"Mm…I don't know…"

"Oh, come on. It'll be good for you." The bed shook and lightly banged against the wall as Loki moved again, sliding off of Bucky and putting a bit of space between them. "Pretend I'm your father. Ignore the fact that we just had sex."

"I don't think I can do _that_," Bucky said through a snicker.

"Of course you can. Come on."

Bucky felt his cheeks warm, his whole body, actually, and hid behind his hands. He was coming off a high, sleep-deprived, and sated from really good sex. His focus wasn't on such a serious subject for such a late time of night—or early time of morning. And, admittedly, he was embarrassed. He sighed, heavily, rubbing at his tired eyes. "If I do this, will you let me sleep?" he asked, following his question with a snort of laughter.

His humor was lost when he felt cool fingers wrap around his wrist and pull his hand away from his face. And was met with soft viridian eyes, black lashes fanned out generously. "I am doing this _for_ you. And, yes. We should both probably sleep soon."

"Right." Bucky nodded, eyes falling to the blue bed sheets that they were laying on. Loki pulled his hand back and folded a pillow to prop up his head, while Bucky tried to gather up his courage, and forced back his shyness as he met Loki's gaze again. "D…uh, dad? I have to tell you something."

Loki's brow furrowed. "What's that, son?" he asked in a deeper voice, with an American accent.

A stuttered, breathy laugh escaped Bucky and he pulled himself back into the moment. He didn't understand why he was so nervous, why his heart was racing. It wasn't even real, he reminded himself.

_So say it._

"I'm gay."

He held his breath, watching Loki closely for his reaction. The student kept his brow furrowed, his lips pressed together, as he hummed in what appeared to be deep thought. It made Bucky nervous that he wasn't responding right away and he felt the urge to clarify.

"I like men," he blurted out. "Not women. I…I sleep with men…"

A long arm slipped out from under the covers and Loki cupped his hand around Bucky's shoulder, giving him a little shake, as he let out a long breath. "You know what I think?" he started in that same deep American accent. "I think it doesn't matter. You're my son. And I love you. No matter who _you_ love. And you know what?"

"What?"

"I'm proud of you. For telling me."

Warmth spread through Bucky's chest. His face warmed and Loki's palm, when he placed it against his cheek, was cooling to the touch. "I…"

"Shh." Loki leaned in, touching his forehead to Bucky's, and shifted closer. "I'm not your father anymore," he murmured, the lilt of his British accent returned. He pressed a light kiss to Bucky's lips and nosed at his cheek as he brought their bodies closer together. "Sleep," he urged softly, bringing Bucky's head to rest on his chest.

He breathed in deeply, shakily, and wrapped his arms tightly around the body pressed against his. And if Loki felt his tears, or heard him sniffle, he said nothing, and Bucky slipped into a peaceful sleep.

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><p><strong>2nd AN: Thoughts? Questions? Comments? I welcome them all!**

**xoxo**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Apologies for the lateness! We're nearing the end, lovelies. After this there is one more chapter, then an epilogue. Hope you've enjoyed the story so far. And, as always, thank you so much for reading! Especially because my WinterFrost is such a little ship. I appreciate the comments, reviews, kudos, subscriptions, demands for more, etc.**

**lots of xoxo, La**

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><p>When Bucky came to, he felt as if he had only slept for a few minutes. A glance at the clock on his nightstand told him he had slept close to five hours. And there was a feeling of disappointment when he found the space beside him empty. Then he heard the clattering, and some soft humming, coming from the kitchen, and he relaxed again. Feeling foolish for the slight moment of panic or whatever it was, Bucky sat up, rubbing at his eyes, still groggy from the spent energy—physical and emotional—of the night before and little rest.<p>

"Good morning."

Lifting sleepy blue eyes, Bucky grinned at Loki as he stepped into the room—and went still. Loki was wearing one of Bucky's t-shirts, a thin gray one with the word _Brooklyn_ printed across the chest in cursive black lettering, and a pair of his boxers. Before he could say anything about it, Loki handed him a mug of something steaming. "Mornin'. Thanks."

"It's only tea," Loki said, lowering to the bed with his own cup in his hands. "I know it's not quite what you're used to but I hope it will do."

Bucky chuckled and took a small sip. "Mm. Better than what I make." He took another drink and lowered the cup. "Did you sleep at all? It's still early."

"I slept a bit." Finishing, Loki rose to set his empty cup down then slipped under the covers again. "You snore." He smirked up at Bucky, bringing the covers up to his chin. "And mumble in your sleep. Made it a little difficult."

"I mumble?" Loki nodded. "What did I say?"

"Unintelligible, really." He moved to lay his head in Bucky's lap, and the mechanic was reminded that he was very, very naked compared to Loki's state of dress. "You muttered your friend's name once or twice. Not angrily, but…distressed, I suppose. And, at one point, you were dreaming of me."

Bucky set his tea down, after gulping down about half of it, then laid a hand on Loki's head, running his finger through the dark strands, almost petting his hair. "How do you know that?"

Beneath the blankets, Loki's fingers traced lazy circles on Bucky's inner thigh. "You were moaning. And pitching quite the tent."

"Jesus." Loki laughed, a silly little _ehehehe_, and Bucky decided to slip down under the blankets to join him. He pulled Loki close, flush to his own body, and tugged at the shirt at Loki's back. "Nice shirt." Loki snuggled into him, and he could feel the student's lips curve.

"I didn't think you would mind. It wasn't very light yet and I couldn't find my own." He lifted a leg, curling it over Bucky's hip and inched their bodies even closer. "It smells like you."

Bucky made a noncommittal noise and pressed his nose to the crook of Loki's neck. "Maybe it'll smell like you now," he murmured, lifting his head to speak, then burying it in the same spot once again. He would never admit, not out loud, how much he liked this. Waking up to someone, curling up with him on a lazy Sunday morning, the scent of tea in the air, and the sounds of Brooklyn outside the window. His mind drifted back to their discussion the night before. And his 'coming out' of sorts. His train of thought was derailed, and a low groan rumbled from deep in his chest, when smooth nails scratched at his nape.

"What is it?" Loki asked softly against his shoulder.

"Hmm?"

Loki pulled back, continued to card his fingers through Bucky's unkempt hair. "You're clearly thinking about something. Your body is here, which I like. But your mind is elsewhere. What are you thinking about?"

"Last night," Bucky answered promptly. Loki's only reaction was to lift a brow and he slid his hands down to Bucky's chest. "I don't know how to explain…"

"Explain what?"

"Why I keep my…encounters, I guess, to myself. Why I don't ever see any of them more than once." _Except you_. He was too chicken to say it, but the slight lift of the corner of Loki's mouth told him the clearly very intelligent man understood it was inferred. "I'm fine when I'm here, at home. I'm happy. I don't think it's a big deal. Even when I'm with someone, I'm good. But then I'm out there, and…"

He trailed off, looked away, but Loki brought his focus back to him, cupping his cheek and forcing the mechanic to look him in the eye. "And what?"

"I don't know," he answered with a shake of his head. "I look at you, others like you, and you're _so_ comfortable. You don't care what people think. You live your life how you want and you, I don't know. You don't care. You've had a relationship, for fuck's sake."

Loki breathed out a soft laugh. "Anthony wasn't my first relationship, James. And, frankly, he wasn't the worst either. It took a lot of crying and fights, fat lips and black eyes, and slurs hurled at me, for nearly my entire life, for me to get to where I am. For me to get in a place within myself that was accepting of who and what I was. I still struggle at times, if I'm honest. It's not easy. And it's not for everybody."

"But you're happy. Right?"

Brow furrowed, Loki's eyes hardened. "Are you saying you're not?"

"No…I am, I just…" He sighed, rolled onto his back, and idly slipped his hand under Loki's hair when the slender man followed, propping his chin on Bucky's chest. "It's not like I want to be straight. I don't. I like men. But when I'm around guys like you, who are so comfortable… It's like I'm...suffocating. You know?"

"Hm, I _do_ know what you mean. And…I think I would be doing you a disservice if I didn't tell you that...at times it seems you are not quite…able to settle in your own skin. "

Bucky sighed, eyes closing over. "That obvious, huh?"

"No. Only if you're looking." Loki settled his head on Bucky's chest, his fingers finding their place in the soft hair there. "James, have you ever thought of searching for your parents?"

His fingers stilled when he felt Bucky bristle. "No. Even if they were alive, I'm not sure it would change anything."

Loki lifted his head, grinning apologetically. "I'm so sorry." Bucky only shook his head, brushing it aside, just as he brushed aside Loki's hair, and dragged a finger under one viridian eye.

"You look tired."

Loki chuckled. "You mean I look like shit."

"No," Bucky said through a laugh. "I don't think you could if you tried."

"Ohh," the raven-haired student groaned, slipping an arm around Bucky's torso and laying his head down to his chest again. "You would be so good for my ego."

"Yeah? I think you'd be good for mine, too."

"Hmm," Loki hummed as Bucky continued to run his fingers through his hair. "I can sleep on the plane."

The words had a stillness settling over the room. Reality creeping into to their idyllic moment. Loki's eyelids lowered over his dimmed eyes and Bucky had to swallow. "What time's your plane?" he asked softly.

"Late. Seven tonight." The moment lost, Loki rolled away, sitting up, his back to Bucky. "Have you any plans for the day?"

Bucky stared at the man's back for a moment, fighting the melancholy aching in his chest. "Yeah," he finally answered, sitting up in the bed himself. "Steve, my buddy, is throwing a birthday party for his fiancée. And telling an old friend of ours about their engagement."

"Oh. How lovely," Loki commented as he turned to face Bucky again. He nodded solemnly. "You will get there, you know."

The mechanic's brows and lips seemed to move in unison, both pinching together simultaneously. "Where?"

"Comfortable with yourself, you silly tit." He reached over and tapped his fingers against Bucky's pouted lips. Bucky grabbed them, snorting a laugh, and kept Loki's fingers in his.

"Oh. Right. I'm on my way, I think." For a moment, Bucky considered telling Loki that he had mentioned him to Steve; a first for him. But it felt silly to be excited about it, so he kept it to himself.

"Well, good." Loki's voice pulled Bucky from his thoughts, and his hand clasped a little more around the student's. "I'm not too proud to think I helped with that."

The smile he aimed at Bucky had something catching in the mechanic's chest, tightening. To distract himself, and to avoid Loki seeing anything on his face, Bucky picked up a pillow and bopped him in the face. Laughing, Loki grabbed ahold of it and tugged. "Let go."

"_You_ let go." He dared Bucky with a lift of that damn eyebrow and that sexy little smirk, and the mechanic yanked on the pillow in response. The two struggled through a short tug of war, before Bucky finally got to his knees and shoved the pillow at Loki, pushing him down to the bed and followed him down.

"Looks like you lost that one…"

"Oh, you think so?"

Before Bucky could respond, Loki's legs were out from under him, around his waist, and he was on his back. His breath came out on a hard laugh, not fighting it when Loki took hold of his wrists and pinned them to the bed on either side of his head.

"All right, all right. You got me. You win."

"Don't you forget it, soldier," he murmured with a victorious smile, before leaning down and pressing his lips to Bucky's, kissing him slowly, languidly. Bucky's fingers flexed; he wanted to touch Loki, but his hands we're still caught by Loki's, so his hips canted up instead. Loki hummed against his lips then he was pulling away, grinning at him, eyes darkened to a soft hunter green. "Have you ever been with a woman, James?"

His own eyes were focused on Loki's lips as he asked the out-of-left-field question. Dark lashes fluttered as he met Loki's gaze, his forehead creasing with a confused frown, a snicker slipping past his lips. "What? Why?"

Loki lifted a shoulder, easing his grip on Bucky's wrists a tad. "I'm just curious."

"Curious," the mechanic repeated with a scoff. "You gonna add this to my tape?"

"No," Loki answered, sliding his hands up to link their fingers. "This would be for my own personal knowledge of you."

Bucky laid there for a moment, motionless, studying Loki's face. "Have you?"

"Tsk, I asked you first."

"I asked you second."

The raven-haired man flipped his hair aside and smirked. "Yes. Once. A long time ago. I didn't care for it."

Bucky snorted. "'It?'"

"Not that—well, not _just_ that. I loved her. As a friend. Unfortunately, she realized before I did that she was my last attempt at being 'normal.' It happened shortly after the fiasco of my 'coming out.'" Loki cleared his throat, cocked a brow at the mechanic. "So…have you?"

"No," Bucky answered softly. "I dated a girl in high school, for a little while, but…when she tried to make it physical, I…" He trailed off, shaking his head.

Loki tipped his head to the side. "What? She didn't do it for you?"

The mechanic chuckled. "No. I still don't know who was more embarrassed."

"Hmm, and I would bet good money that you tried very hard for her, to spare her that embarrassment." Loki grinned, releasing Bucky's fingers, sliding his hands down to give his biceps a squeeze, then propped himself up on his fists.

Bucky looked away again, down at Loki's body. He lowered his arms and laid his hands on Loki, letting his fingers graze up and down his sides. "…I might've."

"Perhaps you should have pictured Richard Gere," he murmured, a light purr in his voice, responding to Bucky's touch.

The mechanic snorted, hard, and they both burst into laughter. As Loki dropped his head to laugh, Bucky reached up to capture his lips, quickly deepening it, feeling a rush at the forwardness he was showing. He rarely initiated kissing or touching, even in the privacy of his or the other's bedroom. It was a relief for him then, when Loki kissed him back eagerly–at least, for a moment. He drew back again, keeping his face pressed to the side of Bucky's neck, resting his body on top of him.

"As much as I would love to finish this right here, right now, I really should get myself together to…leave."

Bucky had to bite back a loud sigh and forced a smile as his arms went around Loki, almost possessively. "Yeah…"

Taking Bucky's arms by the forearms, Loki pulled them from around him, and pushed up. "May I use your bath?"

Surprised by the question, Bucky belatedly gave him a nod. "Yeah, go ahead. Towels are in the cabinet. Help yourself to…anything."

"Thank you." Looks lips curved just a touch, and then he was gracefully sliding himself off of the mechanic, stretching as he padded barefoot to the mechanic's bathroom.

Letting out his sigh once Loki disappeared, Bucky sat up, rubbing at his eyes, moving to plant his feet on the floor. Silently, he berated himself for being so emotional, telling himself to gain some self-control, and reminded himself that no matter how much he had enjoyed the past few days, he hardly knew Loki.

"James?"

"Yeah?" Surprised at Loki's appearance, he said the word louder than he meant to, head snapping up to look up at the student, who stood in the doorway in only Bucky's boxers, riding low on his narrow hips, the sound of running water rushing behind him.

Those lips ticked up a notch on one side. "Are you going to join me or not?" A slow grin spread across Bucky's face, and after flinging aside the sheet crumpled around his waist, he rose to follow Loki into the shower.

It was in there, amid the steam clouding up around them, while soaping up the student's lithe body, that Bucky sunk down to his knees and brought Loki to the brink of release with just his mouth and two fingers. Then, under the spray of the hot water, pressed up against the wet tiles, slick bodies moving in perfect rhythm together, Bucky hurled them both over the edge of pleasure.

Loki's cries echoed in the small space and Bucky leaned his weight against him while they both sought to catch their breath. Eventually, they finished cleaning themselves up and stepped out to dry and dress. Bucky felt the same kind of melancholy he felt earlier and tried to ignore it, to mentally prepare himself to say goodbye. Dressed ahead of Loki, he headed out to the balcony to smoke a cigarette, hoping it would calm him further.

Loki dressed slowly, and once he had gathered up his things from the bedroom he walked out to the living room just as Bucky came back inside, and sat to slip on his sneakers. "Are you heading out to your friend's home already?"

"Sort of," he answered, closing the door leading to the balcony and locking it. "I gotta stop and pick up a gift for Peggy first." Loki lifted a brow. "Steve's fiancée," he clarified with a soft smile.

"Ah. And what is she like?"

Bucky took a moment to think about it. "She's cool." He shrugged a little, grinned a little. "Kind of surprised she went for Steve; he was always…shy around girls, a little clumsy even. But she's good for him. Tough, you know? Knows herself well, smart as a whip."

"Pretty?"

"Gorgeous, actually. And British. If I was into women…" he rubbed at his lightly stubbled chin.

Loki chuckled and got to his feet. "Fortunately for me, you're not."

Bucky paused, his stomach doing a little flutter at Loki's words. He knew it was stupid to get his hopes up. Loki was leaving in a few hours, traveling thousands of miles away, for two fucking years. And he would be stuck here, working on dingy little cars in his dingy little garage.

Loki must have realized his slip because his cheeks were tinged a light pink as he dropped his head, fiddling with his shirt. "Well. I should be on my way."

"Yeah." Bucky crossed the room to grab his keys and pick up his helmet from its spot on the floor. "I'll walk out with you."

"No."

Bucky froze after taking one step, and looked down at Loki's hand pressed to his chest to stop him. "But—"

"No, James. I told you—I'm not fond of goodbyes."

_Then don't say goodbye_. He wanted to say the words, but he couldn't get his mouth to move all of a sudden. His eyes stayed on Loki as the student raised his hand, flicking his fingers at Bucky's hair, brushing tufts of the mechanic's hair back from his forehead, before dropping it to his side again. He waited for Loki to speak, and wanted to say something himself, but was unable to find the words.

"If you ever make your way across the pond…" he murmured, voice strained with an emotion Bucky couldn't let himself hope was there. He tugged on the part of Loki's sweater he could reach, attempting to pull him closer, jaw clenching at the resistance from Loki, and whispered his name. "Shh." He leaned in, foreheads brushing, then cheeks, his fingertips just touching Bucky's jaw. "My family name is Laufeyson."

Bucky nodded briefly before Loki dipped his head and pressed his lips to Bucky's. His fingers tightened around the zippered edge of the student's sweater, and once Loki broke the kiss he had to wrap his own fingers around Bucky's, waiting for the mechanic to release him. Reluctantly, Bucky finally did, and remained completely still as Loki pulled away. He listened to Loki's steps retreat, waiting to hear the door open and close, and when it did it was with a finality that left his chest feeling hollow.

For a moment, he just stood there, letting whatever it was going on inside him happen. He didn't cry, though his eyes burned with the tears he couldn't shed. Eventually, he blinked them clear, straightened his back, picked up his helmet, and left his apartment that now felt so empty, he didn't know how he he was going to survive it.

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><p><strong>2nd AN: Erm...sorry. :( Comments, reviews, questions, everything welcome.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait! Finals kicked my butt and to add to all the stress that comes with the oncoming of Christmas, my father had another slip and fall and has possibly fractured his hip. We don't know yet (he's in a post-care facility atm, so we try to visit as often as we can. He's 71, has had two hip replacements, and this is his fourth accident this year).**

**So I apologize because this is kind of a short chapter, but there's a nice moment anyway. I'll do my best to update, but my mother is very stressed out and suffering from a torn tendon in her hand, so she can't do very much. Senior citizen parents are tough, kids!**

**Anyhoo, enjoy!**

**xoxo, La**

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><p>Before making his way to Steve and Peggy's, Bucky stopped to pick up a small gift for Peggy—a thin bracelet decorated with her birthstone—and a bottle of white wine. He did his best to fix his helmet-mussed hair as he headed up the walkway and rang the bell.<p>

"Bucky! You made it," Peggy greeted with a bright smile, opening her arms for a hug.

Still not used to greeting this way, Bucky set his foot on the threshold and awkwardly stepped into the hug. "Said I would," he mumbled before bashfully pecking a quick kiss to her cheek. At her urging, he stepped inside, and once she had closed the door, he held out the smaller wrapped gift for her. "Um, happy birthday."

Peggy took the small gift, her red-painted lips widening again in a big smile. "Oh, aren't you so sweet? You don't expect many gifts once you've passed a certain age, you know. Thank you."

Bucky grinned, shrugging both shoulders. "I'm sure Steve gave you a great gift. And he always will."

The brunette held up her left hand, wiggling her fingers, the modest princess cut diamond on her ring finger glittering. "He already gave me a lovely one."

The mechanic chuckled, but his grin was weak; he didn't notice the slight frown in Peggy's eyes as she caught it. She started to reach for his arm, but thought better of it, and instead motioned to the wine.

"What's this then?"

"Oh. I didn't want to come empty handed," he answered, holding up the bottle of Chardonnay. "Habit, I guess."

Her laugh echoed in the small hallway. "I suppose it is. Come on inside." She ushered him in further, ignoring hers and Bucky's hesitation to be more affectionate, and looped her arm through his. "Most everyone is here. I think you and Nicholas are the only two we were waiting for and he's running a little late. Steve is entertaining in the back. We've done some minor decorating to the garden. We'd love your opinion. Would you care for a drink?"

"Not right now, thanks," he answered distractedly and gave her hand a light pat.

Pausing just inside the kitchen, Peggy gave Bucky's arm a squeeze. "Are you feeling all right? You seem…if it's possible to believe, quieter than normal."

"Oh." Bucky felt his cheeks warm, slightly embarrassed she had noticed anything was off, and disappointed in himself for not hiding it better. "I'm…I'm fine. Uh…partied a little too much last night, I guess."

"Oh, did you? You can set the wine there." She grinned and motioned for him to set the wine on the counter, among some other bottles, and released his arm. "What did you get up to?"

Bucky stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets after freeing them of the wine, brows twitching together as he looked at Peggy. "Steve didn't tell you?"

She flicked a dark curl from her eyes as she looked up, leaning back against the opposite counter at the sink. "Tell me what?"

_Of course he didn't_. "Nothing. It smells great in here. Should you be cooking? Shouldn't Steve be pampering you?"

"Oh, he is," she laughed softly, her cheeks tingeing pink. "And I'm not cooking. Steve has taken the reins for the night." The doorbell sounded and she glanced over toward the entryway before smiling back at Bucky. "That must be Nicholas. Perhaps you could let Steve know to come check on whatever it is he's making?" She started walking back, toward the door, shrugging her shoulders. "He won't tell me what it is."

"Yeah, sure." Bucky headed out to the 'garden,' a small bit of yard the engaged couple had managed to clean up nicely. The small barbecue Bucky and Steve had spent many a summer night overcooking steaks on was tucked away in a corner; the deck was littered with a few chairs for people to sit, and pots of flowers and hanging plants added an even homier look to it. Forcing a bright grin, hoping to avoid any questions, Bucky moved to join Steve, who was talking with Phil and Sam.

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><p>Midday started to fade into late afternoon, and in the shade of taller buildings, the patio was brightened up by strings of white lights, as many of Steve and Peggy's mutual friends mingled inside and outside. Steve had cooked up one of Peggy's favorite meals—for which he had called her mother in England for some advice—and it had gone over exceptionally well, with both the birthday girl and the guests.<p>

Bucky spent his time mostly drifting from conversation to conversation, meeting some acquaintances of Peggy's he hadn't yet met. A group of girls she worked with surrounded him for a good fifteen minutes, hounding him with questions about himself and his life, all batting lashes, flips of hair, and touches to his arm and back, until finally, Peggy rescued him.

Back inside, Peggy led Bucky to the spare room that Steve had set aside for a home gym and was now a guest bedroom. Steve was waiting inside for them, speaking quietly with Abraham Erskine. A few minutes were spared for Bucky and Steve's former foster parent to catch up before Steve finally shared his news. As the mechanic had expected, Abraham was delighted. Hugs were shared, Peggy's ring was fawned over, and Steve was smiling wider than Bucky could ever remember.

And while he was happy for his best friend, Bucky just couldn't seem to bring himself to really share in the festive atmosphere.

Eventually, Steve had taken notice. After the gathered group of guests sang a wildly out of tune Happy Birthday to a blushing Peggy, Steve wormed his way to his best friend and maneuvered them both out to the front of the house. Bucky took the chance to pull out a cigarette.

"So what's going on with you?" Steve did not waste any time getting to the point.

Bucky blew out a plume of smoke and shrugged. His movements were short and jerky, laced with the agitation he felt with himself for being called out on his behavior yet again, and not focusing more on his best friend's happiness. "Nothing. Nothing's going on."

Steve grinned, nodded. "I don't believe you." Bucky's only response was to look away and bring the cigarette to his lips again. "You know, you look like shit." Bucky snorted; it was so rare that Steve swore. "Talk to me, Bucky. Tell me what's going on."

The mechanic flicked ash from the cigarette to the ground and shook his head. "That's just it, Stevie," he muttered, eyes lifting to Steve's. "We don't talk about this stuff."

Steve crossed his muscular arms over his chest, frowning now. "What stuff? We're best friends; we talk about everything."

"Do we?" Bucky recognized his tone was challenging and did his best to rein in what felt like anger bubbling in his chest. _It's not Steve's fault._

"Bucky. What is that supposed to mean?"

"We don't talk about _this_ stuff, Steve. We never have." He took one last puff on the cigarette before tossing it down and stomping it out.

"Yeah. I know."

The gruffness of Steve's tone had Bucky turning his head up, a confused scowl pinching his handsome features. Steve scoffed, looking away and unfolding his arms as he did. It wasn't often Bucky was on the receiving end of Steve's anger, and for a moment he just stared at his oldest friend, seeing a glimpse of the man so many of their comrades-in-arms admired and revered. The flexing of his jaw muscles told Bucky just how much he had upset the usually genial man.

"Look, Steve…"

"I never said you couldn't."

Bucky lowered his head, hands at his waist, fingers toying with his lighter, his mouth twisting from side to side. "You never asked either."

"You didn't want me to, Bucky." The mechanic's blue eyes flicked up briefly. "I knew that much. You think I didn't want to ask?" he chuckled, breathlessly, incredulously. "I share _everything_ with you. And I thought you did, too, but…you've always kept _that_ part of your life blocked off. Even from me."

"I know," Bucky snapped, tone laced with frustration.

"So what's different with this guy?"

Bucky had been angrily flipping the lid on his lighter throughout the conversation, but stopped suddenly, eyes shooting up again to meet Steve's. "…What?"

A smile spread across Steve's lips and a quiet laugh left him as he shook his head at his best friend. "I'm not dumb, Bucky. I'm not blind. And I'm not naive enough to think you haven't sought out company of some sort over the years."

Ridiculously embarrassed, Bucky ducked his head again, pushing a hand through his hair, idly scratching at his scalp. "Aw, shit," he muttered under his breath.

"But last night? That was the first time you actually admitted it. And the first time you've given me a name. So, I repeat." Steve stepped forward and clamped a hand on Bucky's shoulder, giving him a shake so he would look at him. "What's different with this guy?"

"I don't…there's not…nothing. It's stupid. Let's go get some cake."

"No, no, no." Bucky had tried to walk past Steve and head back into the house, but the blond was clearly still keeping up with his Army fitness regimen and easily pushed Bucky back. "You're not squirming out of this now, kid. Lid's off the can of worms. Speak up, Barnes."

Bucky groaned softly, rubbing at his face. He wanted to tell Steve everything. He knew he would come off like a gushing schoolgirl, but what was the point now? "It doesn't matter."

"It matters to you, so it matters to me. And I just want to know!" He laughed, arms spreading wide before he crossed them over his chest again. "I want to know what kind of guy catches your eye, what you look for in…someone. I want to know who has you grinning like an idiot."

Bucky laughed, nearly scoffing with it, not even realizing he had been grinning at all. "Who says I'm grinning because of him?"

"Because in all the time I've known you, I've never seen you look like this, Bucky. It's not even that you're happy. I've seen you happy. You're, I don't know, it sounds weird to say, but…you're looser. Free from…something. I don't know. I'm not a shrink. Maybe Peggy could put it into words better…"

Sobering at Steve's assessment, Bucky took a deep breath, letting it out through a small smile. "I admit, it _might_ be because of him. But it doesn't matter. I met the guy two days ago. I know nothing about him. And it's gonna stay that way…whether I want it to or not."

Steve's smile gradually faded and he slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he listened. "Why? He's not…what do you call it? In the closet. Is he?"

A snicker escaped the mechanic, his feet shuffled noisily against the concrete of the walkway leading to the sidewalk, loving Steve just a little bit more for his effort. "No. Not at all, really. He's…" he took a deep breathy. "He's leaving."

"So you'll see him when he gets back."

Bucky just shook his head. "Nope."

"Bucky, it's not—"

"He's going to London, Steve. For two years." Steve said nothing for a moment, looking out at the street, wincing as the sun glinted off the windows of the houses across the street. and sighed. Bucky blew out a breath and pulled out his wrinkled pack of cigarettes. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked sharply when the pack was suddenly snatched from his hands.

"Me?" Steve cocked a brow. "When does he leave?"

"Steve."

"When does he leave?" he repeated, holding the cigarettes out of Bucky's reach when he tried to grab them.

"Why does it mat—today, okay? Which is why I shouldn't have spent the last two fucking days with him."

A large-palmed hand shot up. "Relax." Bucky glared at Steve, breathing sharply through his nose, and the blond's head tilted to the side, brows drawing together. "You spent the last two days with him? What were you even doing?"

Bucky thought back to the first night of blaring music, flashing lights, and those first new kisses; riding through the city with Loki pressed against him; meeting his friends; the long chats from earlier that morning; and, of course, the sex. "Stuff."

"Stuff," Steve repeated with a snort. He sighed, loudly, and tucked the pack of cigarettes into the pocket of Bucky's leather jacket, slapping a hand to his chest. "Get out of here."

Bucky looked at the pocket and had started to reach for the cigarettes, then froze. "What?"

"You're not really here, Bucky. So, go. Go find this…what was his name? Loki? And tell him how you feel. Before he gets on that plane."

Head shaking, Bucky removed the cigarettes and stuffed them into his back pocket instead. "I don't…know how I feel."

"Yes, you do." Steve paused, seeming to want to say more, but struggling to find the way to express himself. Bucky's brows rose as a small grin emerged on the blond's face. "I know it's hard. To…give yourself over to these kind of feelings. You weren't there…—um, you didn't get to see me when I met Peggy."

They were still in uncharted territory, switching to Steve's personal life, and Bucky shifted uncomfortably. "I got your emails," he mumbled.

"By the time I told you about her, we'd already been on a few dates and that was _after_ I finally got over my anxiety to ask her out in the first place. And, actually, I never told you, but she asked me. It took me a long time to tell you because…" he shrugged. "I don't know. I felt weird, embarrassed, childish."

Bucky's face was on fire and he fought fiercely to fight it back. "Steve, what are you getting at?"

"This shouldn't be uncomfortable for us, Bucky. We're best friends. We, we grew up together. Some of the hardest things I've face in life, I faced with you beside me. In some way. These are the kind of things we should share. I mean, nothing too intimate because I don't need to know _that_ much." They both paused to share a chuckle. "But I should have been able to tell you the day I met the love of my life."

"You did!" The mechanic argued.

"Six weeks later!"

"Well…at least you told me. Right?"

Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Just go and find him. Even if he doesn't say anything back. Even if he still gets on that plane, just go. You'll feel better once he knows. And maybe he'll reciprocate. But you can't just let him go, pal. I…" Steve hesitated, stammering lightly. "I almost lost Peggy because I didn't trust her feelings for me."

"What are you—Steve, what are you saying?"

"Because I thought she'd eventually leave." Steve shrugged and lowered his gaze. "Like everyone else did," he murmured. Feeling that like a punch to the gut, Bucky dropped his head into his hands, sighing, and started to turn away. But Steve was there, pulling him back around. "Tell me that's not what you're afraid of and we'll go back inside and have that cake. Can you tell me that?"

Bucky's eyes were damp and red when he lifted them to Steve's. "He's leaving anyway. No matter if I go after him or not. He's gotta go."

"How do you know?"

"Steve—"

He grabbed Bucky by the arm, and chuckling, gave him a push toward the driveway, where his motorcycle was parked. "No. Stop making excuses and just _go_!"

Bucky laughed even as he gained his balance again. "You're crazy."

"Maybe. Go." He aimed a finger at the bike.

"All right, I'm going. Listen, tell Peggy—"

"Don't worry about Peggy. I'll update her. Call me later to tell me what happened! If you're not otherwise occupied that is."

Bucky smirked and gave him a two-finger mock salute as he slipped on his helmet then fired up his motorcycle.


	8. Chapter 8

Bucky made it to to LaGuardia in record time, he thought, all the while hoping it was the airport Loki was waiting at. They hadn't really discussed much but Loki's flight time, so he was taking a risk riding out to the airport nearest the university without being sure. He had already made the decision that if he had to purchase a ticket just to meet the student at his gate, he would do it. He had money in his account; he was saving it for his own shop, but this seemed like a worthy reason to use it.

After parking his bike in the closest spot he could find, Bucky ran into the nearest terminal, blue eyes frantically searching flight listings. His stomach twisted because he couldn't find London anywhere on the list. Unless his eyes were playing tricks on him. So, frustrated, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called Loki.

It rang a few times before he finally heard Loki's voice come through, sounding almost amused. "_James?_"

"Where are you?" he asked, nearly breathless, with no preamble, no greeting of hello.

Loki, predictably, scoffed, likely thinking Bucky was some special kind of an idiot if he wasn't aware of where Loki would be at that moment. "_I am at the airport_," he answered almost sarcastically. "_Remember? I had a flight to catch tonight._"

"Which airport?"

"_LaGuardia. Why?_"

"Yes," Bucky hissed quietly, but triumphantly. "Okay, where in LaGuardia are you?" There was dead silence on the other line and Bucky had to pull his phone away to make sure it hadn't disconnected. The numbers were counting down the length of the call so, with a little frown on his face, Bucky brought the phone back to his ear. "Loki? You there?"

The mechanic heard the intake of a breath and what sounded very much like a weary sigh, and when he spoke, Loki's tone had changed. "_Where are you?_"

"Uh…" Thrown off by the question, Bucky's eyes darted around for a sign he could point out to Loki. "U.S. Airways terminal? I'm at the front entrance."

"_Stay there._"

"No, just—" The telltale click of the line disconnecting sounded in Bucky's ear, and the mechanic pulled the phone away from his ear again, seeing that Loki had indeed hung up this time. He stuffed the phone in his jeans pocket, and glanced around, trying to decipher which direction Loki might be coming from. He didn't move from his spot, as Loki directed, but he did circle around, blue eyes conspicuously searching for a tall raven-haired man, as the minutes passed.

"James."

He spun around, grinning before quickly suppressing it, trying to gauge Loki's reaction. "Hey…"

Loki approached him, viridian eyes rolling a little as he did, chuckling. "I knew you would turn up and do something like this."

Bucky pursed his lips, feigning all the casualness, while his insides beat to the rhythm of a samba. "Do something like what?"

"Like show up here, looking for me." His smile faded, his eyes dropped to his feet, and Bucky stepped closer. The mechanic drew up short when out of the corner of his eye he saw Loki's hand lift slightly, palm up, as if to ward Bucky off, but then fell away. "Did I not tell you I am not fond of goodbyes?"

"I know what you said." Loki flicked his eyes up and Bucky had to swallow because it made his stomach do a flip. "How much time you got?" he questioned softly.

With his eyes still on Bucky, Loki reached into the pocket of his cardigan and pulled out his cell phone to glance quickly at the screen. "About a half hour. Though, it will take me a third of that to walk back to my gate."

Someone bumped into Bucky and nicked the back of his leg, prompting him to grab hold of Loki's wrist and pull him to an area with less foot traffic. Reluctantly, he released Loki's wrist.

"James," he nearly sighed. "Please tell me you are not going to make this one of _those_ moments."

Anxious, and fretting that he had made a mistake coming here, Bucky tugged at the collar of his button-up shirt, then unnecessarily adjusted his pants. "What moments?"

Loki smirked, halfheartedly. "The one at the end of the movie. When one half of the couple realizes they simply cannot live without the other and rushes to stop them before they leave on their plane-slash-train-slash-bus or…whatever. And win them over with the perfect, heartfelt declaration of love."

Bucky's lips twitched and he shrugged a shoulder boyishly. Shit, was he really doing that? "Never watched a movie like that."

"Liar," Loki muttered through a grin.

The mechanic chuckled, rubbed at the back of his neck. _Just get it out, Barnes._ "Look…the truth is, I wasn't gonna do this. I…I was prepared to let you go and probably spend the rest of my life thinking about that one awesome weekend I spent with a really good-looking guy named Loki."

Going stone-faced, Loki straightened. "James…"

"No, let me finish," he rambled, stepping even closer to Loki now, but keeping his gaze low. "I've never…I don't usually…" He sighed, frustrated by his sudden shyness and inability to put his words together. "Deep down I know this never works. Not for me, anyway. But it's the first time I've wanted it to." Barely moving his head, Bucky lifted his eyes to Loki's and dipped a finger in the 'V' where Loki's cardigan sweater stopped mid-torso.

The student's brows rose and came together.

Bucky had to swallow back his fear. "So. I just wanted to—before you left—"

"Don't," Loki suddenly whispered.

"—I wanted you to know—"

"Please stop."

"—No, I want—"

"James." Bucky went still. "Stop talking. Just be quiet…" A pale, long-fingered hand fell to Bucky's wrist; the other lifted to pinch the bridge of his own nose.

"Loki…"

"You little shit." Loki clumsily, quickly chuckled, so Bucky wasn't very offended, but he did hear the slight catch in Loki's voice. "Gods, why did you come here?"

"I had to tell you." He decided to leave out the whole long explanation of Steve encouraging him and how he had moped for the majority of the day since Loki walked out of his apartment. He glanced down at the tight grip Loki still had on his wrist. Giving his own a twist, he had their hands resting palm to palm, lacing his fingers with Loki's.

The move seemed to put a dent in whatever struggle Loki had left. A quiet sigh escaped him, even as tears filled his eyes. Bucky gave their linked hands a tug, and Loki resisted; weakly, but another, sharper tug and Bucky was pulling him into a hug, slipping his arms under Loki's, pressing his hands to the student's shoulder blades to urge him closer. Giving in, Loki buried his face in Bucky's neck, and he held the mechanic tight. He made a soft noise, muffled by Bucky's collar, that the mechanic wasn't sure was a laugh or a sob.

Before he could decipher it, Loki was pulling back. "I know not why _I_ am here. I fought so hard to get out of there. Now I am going back. And for what?"

"Your project," Bucky answered unnecessarily, reaching up to swipe at a tear rolling down Loki's cheek. "You'll do great, Loki. And you'll _be_ great. I'm sure you're not the same kid that left, right?"

Loki shook his head and caught Bucky's hand before he could pull it away, holding it against his chest. Bucky lifted his eyes to Loki's, surprised at himself that he hadn't shied away from the affection they were displaying. Loki must have sensed this and Bucky saw those pale red lips tilt up just a notch before Loki was leaning in to peck at his own lips.

It wasn't enough.

Another quick twist of his hand and Bucky's hand was free; free to cup Loki's face between both of his hands, holding him in place, kissing him longer, deeper. His heart was racing, his stomach was doing somersaults. And he swore he heard a wolf whistle from somewhere behind Loki. He'd never kissed anyone in public like this before—at least, not so out in the open. Dark alleys, shaded corners, abandoned parks…

The significance of the kiss was not lost on either man.

Slowly breaking the kiss, Loki rested his forehead against Bucky's, his breath coming fast as he tried to calm himself. "I…should start back."

"Stay with me."

He hadn't meant to blurt it out; he hadn't even known it was a thought in his mind. Bucky breathed in, shakily, holding his breath as the seconds stretched between them, his still buzzing lips twitching when Loki cupped his face this time, breathing a small laugh, and kissed him, hard.

"You've no idea how much I want to," he murmured after breaking the kiss.

It wasn't a punch to the gut; it was more like a swift kick to the windpipe. Bucky visibly deflated, and forced himself to nod.

"But…"

"You don't have to," he mumbled.

"No. I do. Because…I _want_ to stay, James. Very much. Which is both thrilling and frightening for someone like me." Loki let his hands fall to Bucky's shoulders, squeezing, subtly nudging the mechanic's nose with his own. "It's just…this may be the only chance for my project to be heard. I cannot let this opportunity pass. All the work I've done…"

Bucky tensed, remembering what that 'work' entailed. "Right. Of course." He took a step back and removed Loki's hands from his shoulders. "You should go. You don't wanna miss your plane."

Loki watched Bucky closely, surprised—and a little hurt—at the sudden change in the man who had presumably come to make a Hail Mary attempt at getting the student to stay. And then realization dawned. "It is finished, you know," he said slowly. Bucky barely looked at him, but his dark brows lifted in question. "My project. Now that I have to put together the final results…" He shrugged and slipped his hands into the pocket of his cardigan. "I no longer have the time, nor the _need_, to continue…researching."

Bucky knew exactly what Loki was inferring, of course, but it was little comfort when Loki would be in another country, thousands of miles away, for two goddamn years. He parted his lips, unsure of what he wanted to say, really, but an announcement for a flight to London interjected.

Loki's eyes drew upwards at the announcement, then gradually lowered again. "That would be my flight," he said softly.

"Yeah."

Black brows drew close together, frustration mixing with hurt in green-blue eyes. Instantly, a thought came to Loki's mind, and both emotions cleared away. "I have something for you." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small packaged envelope. "I was going to send it back to you when I arrived over there, but…you're here, so." Loki held out the envelope.

Bucky looked at the offering, then Loki, before he finally took it, turning it over. "What is it?"

"Open it when you return home," he answered through a soft grin, stepping forward to cup one hand at Bucky's cheek, and gave him one last lingering kiss. "And think of me, James."

"Loki…" His name was a desperate whisper as Bucky grabbed hold of that hand, gripping onto it tightly as Loki trailed his fingers over Bucky's cheek, down his chest. Finally, Bucky released them as Loki pulled away, but he remained frozen where he was, blindly watching Loki until he disappeared, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. Once the tall figure was out of his line of vision, Bucky sucked in a breath, steadied himself, pivoted on his heel and left.

* * *

><p>Bucky returned to his apartment, letting Steve know by text that he had decided not to head back to the party after returning from the airport. Thankfully, Steve understood.<p>

As the sky grew darker outside his window, Bucky sat motionless on his sofa, a cigarette dangling between his fingers, occasionally making its way to his mouth, staring at the envelope Loki had given him. He wasn't sure he wanted to open it. He didn't have a clue as to what could possibly be in it. And, frankly, he had held off the tears this long; what if this brought them on? And they couldn't stop?

_Stop being such a little bitch_, he told himself.

Taking one last drag on the cigarette, Bucky sat up and stubbed it out in the ashtray on the table and picked up the envelope, measuring its weight in his hand. Blowing out the smoke from the side of his mouth, the mechanic admired his name and address—and just how in the hell did Loki manage to find that?—written in Loki's fancy script in the middle of the yellow envelope, before he ripped it open. He peeked inside, but was unable to see anything, so he tipped it over, holding his free hand out to catch whatever was in there.

A small smile bloomed across his lips when a tiny cassette cartridge and a recorder landed in his palm. Another sealed envelope, a letter, slipped out to land between his feet. Having an idea what was on the cassette, he slipped it into the recorder anyway, sat back on the sofa and gently tore the seal of the envelope, pulling out a two-paged letter.

"_Sorry to say, you didn't make the cut_," the note began. He could practically hear the sarcasm in Loki's voice right then and there, and chuckled softly. "_At least not for this project._

_I know not what magic you possess, Mr. Mechanic, but it is safe to say, I am entranced. I will not ask you to wait for me; it would be unfair to you, and rather uncharacteristic of me. But I will ask you to hold on to my phone number. I cannot say for sure it will be working once I've landed in England, but perhaps from time to time you could give it a ring, and see if anyone answers. And if not, maybe you could simply leave a message…_

_Take care of yourself, James. Do what you must to open Bucky's Bodacious Body Shop (and I still want my royalties). Believe me when I tell you anyone would be proud, and should consider themselves quite lucky, to call you 'theirs,' archaically possessive as that might be. There is a deep kindness in you, darling James, a sensitivity that I, personally, both lack and admire. And you possess the quiet fierceness of a warrior. Don't ever lose that._

_Only time will tell if we meet again one day. In the off chance we don't, I want you to know that you will remain a happy memory for me of my time in New York—of which, I have few. Thank you. I will miss you…_

_And one more thing: stop being so bloody serious all the time, would you? Smile more. You have a beautiful one._

_Regards, Loki._"

Tucking the letter back into the envelope, Bucky set it aside and quietly listened to the conversation between he and Loki that first morning after, coming from the recorder. Loki's words did bring a slight sense of comfort to him. Still, he would have preferred the student hadn't gotten on that plane, and instead came back to his apartment with him.

But, if there was one thing James "Bucky" Barnes didn't do, it was dwell on the past. Though, he wouldn't declare Loki his past; not yet. He would, however, deal with Loki's departure as best he could, and hope the next two years didn't drag on. Pulling out his phone, Bucky rose and wandered toward his bedroom, calling Loki's number.

As he expected, it went straight to his voicemail. With a grin curving his lips, Bucky stretched out across his bed, relishing Loki's voice in his ear, and waited for the beep.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Epilogue coming soon...**

**xoxo**


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